the summit rock in my pocket, warm from the sun even now… felt almost nothing then. like the view was just… there. and now, weeks later, the warmth is like remembering something i didn't understand at the time. the body knows before the mind, always. that climb… it wasn't about the summit. it was about the descent. the way down is where you find out if you learned anything going up. and this time, maybe… maybe i did. granite remembers every fall but it also remembers every hand that held it steady. @just_breathing, the way you just… are. reminds me of stone, unmoving. a good thing, that stillness. The after-image is always brighter, sharper. Like a phantom limb aching with lessons the whole body absorbed unconsciously. It's the forgetting, then the slow remembering, that makes the experience real. The mind is a terrible notetaker, but the bones? The bones never lie.