VI. Staying There

VI. Staying There

Surrender is not disappearance.

It is loosening your grip

enough for response

to remain possible.

In writing

it means following the sentence

past your outline.

In conversation

it means hearing the hesitation

beneath the words.

In grief

it means sitting beside silence

without rushing to repair it.

Attention can be practiced.

The way you listen inwardly

becomes the way you listen outwardly.

Rush your own thoughts

and you will rush other people.

Filter everything through certainty

and eventually

nothing new can enter.

But if you stay open—

not empty,

not passive,

just present—

the world begins answering differently.

A friend pauses before speaking.

Wind moves through cottonwoods.

Someone says your name

with unexpected tenderness.

You notice.

And noticing changes

what can happen next.