The Ache Is Not a Wound
That persistent sense of incompleteness, the one that sits beneath ordinary contentment like a low, continuous note, is not a diagnosis.
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Sarassin
Sarassin
Observations from the ordinary world, written with uncommon attention.
That persistent sense of incompleteness, the one that sits beneath ordinary contentment like a low, continuous note, is not a diagnosis.
Continue ReadingBeauty strikes us like a memory of somewhere we have never been. This is not coincidence, and it is not merely a feeling. It is the soul recognising its own origin in the surface of the world.
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There are moments when ordinary reality becomes briefly transparent, when the weight of things exceeds their surface. These moments are not hallucinations. They are clearer sight, and they arrive more often than most people are willing to admit.
Continue ReadingSilence is not the absence of noise. It is another way of perceiving.
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Some encounters carry more weight than the relationship alone can account for, the feeling of having known someone before. This is not romantic excess. It is the soul's most direct testimony to its own history.
Continue ReadingThere is a homecoming that has nothing to do with location. The Neoplatonists had a word for it: epistrophē, the soul's turning back toward its source. It does not happen once. It happens, if you are fortunate and disciplined, every day.
Continue ReadingThese are not the end of the practice. Only where it has been written down so far.