What It Is To Know


Whilst my child cringes at the idea of me toiling with her hair lest a stint of interest in the past, she won’t even attempt herself. But she’s at it with mine as she dreams me in her salon chair or with this mare, while she’s floating along this timeline, we call life. Focused on thrice sectioned pieces, weaving in and weaving out recent memories and letting them pass by with neutrality with an intelligent presence with her full-blown soul-filled consciousness. What do you think, a mindful practice that ends in a playful look? What form of this higher self-knowledge do you take on without any burden of fear? Let them pass by, only then will you know what it is to know.

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