Movement did not end when I closed my eyes, let alone when I left them open. It learned me, this movement. It remained with patience, as if it had always known I would look away before I understood. I believed distance might reduce it, that time might erode the pressure of its presence, but time only gave it rhythm. It began to repeat itself, not in form, but in insistence.I discovered that stillness was not the absence of motion, but its most refined expression. Absent of unnecessary effort or resistance....
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I have been witness. There are things that can never be spoken; a baby's first breath, an angel's first tear, a mind's first thought. Yet even these things are not comparative to what I have seen in the first moment of my existence. From the moment I opened my eyes, I knew what I was supposed to do - so why did I find myself unable to move when I saw that darkness? There are things even light cannot comprehend, and it was there, in the utter desolation, that movement...
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