Process. It is the steps toward an end goal and it is the circuitous route of the heart and the mind in discovering. Racing past process. Stepping over process. Pretending that I know. That I've been there. A smug attitude of "Show me something new." and " I've seen it all at this point ." and "I'm the one that got there; that lived there." Where ever "there" might become to be. I understand how I become this way. It's simple . It's comfortable . It's easy.
It is the boxer. I must step in and spar for the right to become messy, become layered again.It is a challenge to stumble, to allow myself to experience the "new" the undiscovered and not place a flag upon it ; colonizing the idea, the material, the feeling as my own.
Instead to enjoy it;to live into it's "it-ness". Process. I know that I resist and engage in process. Process is clumsy , imperfect. Process makes me feel "I should know this!" and at the same time it is the delicious opening of the heart and the mind and the soul to the thing being processed. The reward , if there is one , is deep and subtle and beautiful.
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