Chapter 7: Sound Of The Song

I’ve been walking this line 
So divided by time I have sworn up and down 
That the middle is just fine 
But once I break even 
I wreck something new 
I’m never that centered 
But neither are you 

You are fickle and false 
And ferociously free 
You come like a current 
Who’s riding on me 
But when I try to surf you 
The swell always wins 
And I’m always paddling 
out with the wind 

So ill walk along seconds 
One step at a time 
Staring straight forward 
To read all the signs 
Ready to set 
And get going along 
As I center myself 
In the sound of the song

Journal

- How do I find center?
- What is the choice-less choice now?
- What am I connected to?
- With my gaze upon the horizon, what do i see, feel, know now about the threshold I am crossing? What have I let go of? What have I accepted?