It, is something I feel but don’t see. It, is always with me everywhere I go, sitting right there on and in my chest like it owns me. It is the push to get me up to make tea, and the pull to sit back down. It animates my legs towards a girl I like, and lights the fire in my loins. It’s the most potent friend I have in the world that I have never seen, will never see.

I am aware of It, always. It’s the silence that I carry and the chaos lurking beneath. It’s the eyes behind the eyes, looking, watching from a distance but in an instant right there with me, eyes wide open and glaring. When I meditate it comes forward and sits with me on the mat. I look at it and see a fuzzy nebulous thing always escaping analysis.

It, is faceless, egoless, all accepting.

It is the first and final mystery.

It, is the the last thing I will feel on my final blink.