Poetry · 1 min read · July 1, 2026
Coming Alive
Through Practice
The practice is my becoming.
Nothing repeated. Nothing wasted.
Every rep reorganizes my system.
Pain is getting more precise.
Noise is becoming more quiet.
Signal more clear.
Balance takes less and less effort.
Not hoping to arrive to any destination.
Just trying to deepen the relationship with what is here.
Not yearning for anything to end or start.
Just developing what I already have.
There's nowhere else to be but here.
There's no other life than the one that's happening now.
I meet pain with grief.
I meet fear with courage.
I meet urgency with softness.
I meet reality with presence.
I meet uncertainty with rhythm.
My attention is the only thing
I need to control.
Here now is enough for me.
Eye of the Mountain