While the Moment Washes Through
image by Ogutier
Quiet inside while
the moment
washes through,
take in everything
evenly,
and with tenderness.
Just imagining it
makes a clearing
in your forest.
Just speaking the intention
makes you long for it.
Cry for it.
Most of the moments
do not wash through.
They pass over your head.
Or solidify. Stick.
Most often, tenderness
is absent.
Walk to the corner,
try to take everything in
and let it wash through.
Dwelling in the sights and sounds,
note the density
of the agendas that interfere:
to find the market’s perfect banana,
to plan your response
to a companion,
to win a passerby’s approval,
to show how much you know.
Quieting again. You re-arrive.
Blesssing what’s here
with your attention,
listen. Let the street
happen. May you
take it all in evenly.
Let it all wash through.
©Susa Silvermarie 2026
with gratitude for Tara Brach podcast on Listening
Above Ajijic
A particularly good one for this morning. To sit in the dark and take it all in. Feeling the soft fur of El Señor, watching his doppelgänger on the roof across the street. A breeze enough to nudge one wind chime but no more. Thank you for the reminder, vecina.