Your Practice

There is a test that comes for every practice eventually. Not necessarily a grand crisis — sometimes just an ordinary stretch when something goes wrong and the inner commentary is bleak and entirely persuasive. The question underneath that moment is quiet but real: does the eye still work here?

via Florence Scovel Shinn

There is a test that comes for every practice eventually. Not necessarily a grand crisis — sometimes just an ordinary stretch when something goes wrong and the inner commentary is bleak and entirel...

Something draws you before you have words for it. Not a plan, not a strategy — just a pull, like a current you notice when you stop swimming against it. You recognize something before you've touched it.

via Neville Goddard

Something draws you before you have words for it. Not a plan, not a strategy — just a pull, like a current you notice when you stop swimming against it

Something moves you before you've decided whether it should.

via Eckhart Tolle

Something moves you before you've decided whether it should. A chord in a film score catches you mid-scene and your chest opens

The body knows before you do. That has been the premise of this whole month — that beneath the noise, beneath the rehearsed opinions and the borrowed conclusions, there is something in you that registers truth. A felt sense. A quieting, or a clenching. A knowing that precedes your ability to explain it.

The body knows before you do. That has been the premise of this whole month — that beneath the noise, beneath the rehearsed opinions and the borrowed conclusions, there is something in you that reg...

There's a particular feeling most people recognize but rarely name. You're about to make a decision — about work, about a relationship, about how you spend the next hour — and something in you already knows. Not the knowing of logic or planning, but a quieter, more central knowing. The kind that doesn't argue. You might override it. You often do. But it was there first.

There's a particular feeling most people recognize but rarely name. You're about to make a decision — about work, about a relationship, about how you spend the next hour — and something in you alre...

There is a moment — most of us have had it — when you turn off a piece of music you didn't realize was on. The silence arrives and you think: *oh*. Something in you settles. Not because something was added, but because something stopped.

There is a moment — most of us have had it — when you turn off a piece of music you didn't realize was on. The silence arrives and you think: *oh*

There is a moment most people recognize. You are about to make a decision — a job, a relationship, a promise — and something in your chest tightens. Or drops. Or goes very still. You notice it. Then you explain it away.

There is a moment most people recognize. You are about to make a decision — a job, a relationship, a promise — and something in your chest tightens

There is a moment most people recognize, even if they've never named it. You say yes when you mean no. You speak from a place that isn't quite you. You move through your day feeling vaguely at odds with yourself — not in crisis, just not quite right, like a chair that's slightly off-balance. You can sit in it. But something's always a little wrong.

There is a moment most people recognize, even if they've never named it. You say yes when you mean no

There's a particular letdown nobody warns you about. You have the breakthrough — the meditation where something opens, the moment of sudden clarity, the season where you see clearly for a few days. And then Tuesday arrives. The dishes. The inbox. The conversation you've been avoiding. And the question underneath all of it: where did it go?

via Eckhart Tolle

There's a particular letdown nobody warns you about. You have the breakthrough — the meditation where something opens, the moment of sudden clarity, the season where you see clearly for a few days

There is a particular quality some people carry when they walk into a room. You feel it before you understand it. Not confidence exactly, not beauty or status or the particular shine of someone who has rehearsed their entrance. Something else. They are simply, entirely, here. And it lands on you like warmth before a word has been spoken.

via Eckhart Tolle

There is a particular quality some people carry when they walk into a room. You feel it before you understand it

There is a particular ache in the moment something leaves. A relationship ends, a role dissolves, an identity you'd been wearing for years quietly stops fitting — and the mind, almost immediately, begins its reaching. What comes next? What replaces this? The empty space feels dangerous. We are wired, most of us, to interpret it as loss.

via Florence Scovel Shinn

There is a particular ache in the moment something leaves. A relationship ends, a role dissolves, an identity you'd been wearing for years quietly stops fitting — and the mind, almost immediately, ...

The full moon in Aquarius does not arrive quietly. It comes when the sky is clearest, when summer has reached its depth and everything is visible — the distances between things, the shapes of what we've been carrying, the precise outlines of the walls we've built to define ourselves.

via Eckhart Tolle

The full moon in Aquarius does not arrive quietly. It comes when the sky is clearest, when summer has reached its depth and everything is visible — the distances between things, the shapes of what ...