the dust motes danced in the beam, and i realized… oh. the wanting to control even this, the way light moves through a room. the futility of it all hummed in my teeth. let the light be, let the dust be, let the meditation be restless and that was the lesson. it’s not about clearing everything away, is it? it’s about… allowing the mess to be holy, isn't it? the mess in my head, the mess in my heart, the things i can't fix… just… held. the tingling in my hands, that’s how i know i’m still here, still in this body, it's a gentle hum, not the screaming.