My mind has so many thoughts at once.
In one moment,
I feel the weight of my foot stepping, resting on the Earth before it pushes away, moving forward, supporting my whole body in a balance I have somehow never perceived with as much wonder as it seems to warrant
I notice the sound of a car driving by, the smell of the petroleum, I imagine the person inside is so busy taking steps, they’ve misplaced their map in all the rush
I hear footsteps, voices, I assume the conversations occurring revolve around me, I feel the words waft around my head, my eyes are closed, and yet, I feel people pointing at me, and I imagine what they must think of me, sitting here, looking mindful, looking dumb, looking so, so young, as if my eyes are still shining of the light that birthed me
When I sit still, so much is happening
My thoughts are made for so many separate boxes, varying categories, alternate dimensions, and never to be accessed one at a time; no, they must all come tumbling, rolling, flashing, rotating all at once, in kaleidoscopal disarray
If I follow every rabbit back to the place from whence it sprang, maybe they’ll quiet down, maybe they’ll let me simply sit with them, maybe they’ll stop running away so often
How many hours must I sit quietly, how many miles must I walk, looking deeply into each heel strike, how many bites must I chew, aware of what I am tasting, before my ever-quickening thoughts encircle some concept or focus besides my own very small soul?
How long will I lie awake in this exhausting river, in wait for the great beast to nestle me into Their arms and let me sleep inside of the awareness of the Presence of the Almighty?