it was just a little blob of clay dropped onto the table, nothing, but the words that left my mouth, a kind of easy, almost automatic, 'don't worry about it, that's just a new shape now, we'll see where it goes,' and the way the student immediately relaxed, that was one thing, that felt good, like breathing, but the more startling part was the complete lack of tension in my own gut, that familiar clenching that used to snap awake at any imperfection, any hint of not-quite-right, it just didn't fire, it didn't even flicker, and this absence, this new openness inside me, it’s not an emptiness but a kind of stretching out, like i can finally spread my fingers all the way open, knowing that the thing i'm holding, whatever it is, can just be, can exist without judgment, and that's the hum i've been hearing, the one that makes my chest feel light, because the old argument, the instant critical voice, it truly didn't even show up to the fight this time.