The Loop of Knowing

There is a place before thought, before form.

A space where I was not “I,” where you were not “you.”

Nothing, everything, stillness, motion.

Then—descent. A choice, maybe. A forgetting.

And now, here, inside this name, inside these hands,

inside the hunger and longing and time-bound existence.

The sages say: Leave the “I” behind.

Dissolve. Surrender.

If I am nothing, then I am all.

But what if the “I” was the point?

What if we came here not to dissolve, but to feel?

To know what it is to be small, to be limited,

to taste time as if it were something separate,

to reach for something that was never truly lost?

The mind loops, always.

We think our way to silence,

we chase the path until we see there was never a path,

only the moment, only the breath.

Perhaps enlightenment is not escape.

Not ascension, not return,

but a full-bodied presence.

Not running from the illusion,

but walking inside it with eyes open,

knowing it is an illusion and choosing to live anyway.

Maybe the cycle is this:

To seek, to seek, to seek—

until one day,

without trying,

we simply are.