The Light Changed While I Was Creating


I’ve never experienced the exact same day twice because something in it has always subtly shifted and changed between my last experience and this one,
I have never experienced the exact same day twice, but I keep writing the same script as if repetition could make the unpredictability safe enough to hold,
Why do I persist in attempting to master what has already passed, while the present moment patiently awaits my genuine attention,
I have never experienced the exact same day twice, but I keep pointing at the memory all over again as though it is the same thing that was there before years ago...
I have looked at the same thing a hundred times, yet I’ve repeatedly walked past the thought that attempted to convey a message that escaped during my previous memory,
I have looked at the same thing a hundred times, asking questions because I decided the answers finally settled and the map of that same person was already drawn,
How many times have I allowed familiarity to convince me that there was nothing left to discover in a place that I had only ever seen through the eyes of my former self,
I have looked at the same thing a hundred times and seen something different every time I was actually willing to look from within without already knowing what I expected to find...
I have confused the routine of returning to the familiar with actually knowing it, and that small confusion has cost me more than I care to count.
I have confused the routine with arriving at the same conclusion as growth when really I was just more comfortable with the thought of that particular familiarity in my head,
Is the certainty I hold in my mind an honest, earned belief, or is it merely the feeling of never being surprised enough to challenge or question it,
I have been mistaking routine for understanding for so many seasons that the distinction between the two has blurred before I could even notice it..
I have missed things because I was so sure of what I would find in a familiar place that I stopped actually looking once I arrived in the moment,
I have missed the shift in the light, that small shift in the wind, that tiny detail in the corner of the room that was the whole point if I had just been present enough to see it,
What has already changed in the person I’m looking for that I keep refusing to build because it asks me to abandon my preconceived notions of what they really are,
I have missed out on the things not because I was careless but because I was so busy being prepared that I forgot to be truly present while I was creating it...
I keep writing the script for what has moved on,
Familiarity let me stop asking questions,
Routine confused me into calling it mastery,
Too prepared for the day that never arrived,
Busy being ready while the moment passed...


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