All Things Made Light
What is it to be happy? It is to forget ourselves in these moments. Life is delivering exactly what we need, whether we realize it at the time or not. We may stop wanting. The things that compose us are distributed across the shadows of these moments, where we sink into a field of grass, float up into the sky from a mountain top, or fly off in a breeze with the scent of honeysuckle. We evaporate, dissipate, and spread ourselves across a hundred different times where there was a space made for us to fall into. We were in a place and time that can hold us and only us, so we leave a tiny piece of ourselves in each one of these memories. We are split, then distributed, reaching beyond like the seeds of a dandelion being swept away by the wind. We disappear into these moments of accommodation: all true to the touch, each bit illuminated, all things made light.
from viafrank
