In times of trauma I have no idea what I’m doing except somehow saving myself.



Sitting, wondering at the beauty of existence but also inquiring into the horrors here too.


Pain yet complete aliveness.


What is the duration of this moment? Does it last only until the the next instance of inattention?


This is always it.


Roaring tinnitus this morning in my now blocked, deaf left ear. My experience of the world is now temporarily different and yet the open awareness of it remains clear and unchanged.


A solitary lamp illuminating the corner of the room. Ringing, hissing tinnitus; shrill, clean and precise.


I am very lucky to have a job in which I spend most of the time in a state of flow. No distracting, pointless, discursive inner monologue. Someway, somehow my usual identity of self falls away and ‘I’ cease to do the work but instead am the work.