change is inevitable, so they say.
yet I am slowly becoming aware of something inside me that doesn't change.
I can't quite nail it down or name it.
existence? experience? the witness?
it is whatever is experiencing the other changes -- the thing that takes note of them, the thing that stays the same and therefore provides the static point of reference that is necesssary in order to realize that a change has occurred.
it is the background -- the stage on which change appears.
it's not quite an inner voice, yet I do sense somewhat of a dialogue going on at times.
it's been with me for as long as I can remember.
it was with me before I started school. it was with me when my children were born.
it is with me when I hike or stand up to speak. it keeps me company as I fall asleep and welcomes me to the quiet stillness of the first morning light.
it is my constant companion.
it feels almost like a thread that links all of my past and present experiences. it seems to be connected to my body in some way, but I won't know that for sure until I die, I suppose.
it is easiest for me to locate when I'm silent and still.
and sometimes, when I am totally engrossed in an activity, it seems to disappear.
I've become a bit obsessed lately with getting to know it. I want to be able to tap into it at will -- to locate my internal figure-ground-reversal switch so I won't feel caught up in and battered around by all that is temporary.
something tells me that there's almost nothing more important right now than cultivating my awareness of it.