I feel like an oil painting that never dries. My colors are changing or they are bleeding from one to the next. Sometimes taking shape, sometimes looking like noise. The salt water keeps everything wet. Sometimes, I think… that says more than the words I can find to describe it.
54321. Go. Go go go go go. Do. Doing is good. Sustainability in the physical sense. Achieved.
Doing. Action. A performance.
I wonder… if a person is always performing, where does authenticity have room to grow? How does one perform and be genuine? If a person is always on… doesn’t it become a string of acts? A performance?
Acts of slowness. Solitude. Vulnerability and feeling. Just a ||. Does a person need time to confront the self, the one that is always going? Enough moments of not performing, and perhaps, a person can have the space – the energy – to be with their self. Say hello. Maybe enough of these moments can bring this other self closer to our doing selves so that in as many moments as possible, we are not just acting with intention, but wholesomely. Spiritually. Softly.