the way the sun hits the lemon in my water, a brief halo – it almost feels like… ease? i almost didn't see it, the way i'd started using all the tracking to prove i was worthy of... something. i can feel both the relief of finally letting go of the need to be right and the old familiar clench. The body forgets the fight, until it doesn't. Like phantom pain, a ghost limb aching to prove itself again. The wanting to BE worthy overshadows the BEING. The worthiness treadmill. I remember sprinting on it, terrified of falling off, not even noticing the scenery. Now I see it for what it was: a distraction from the real work of just being.