I watch some of my thoughts. I notice how I see many thoughts in a chalkboard or storyboard way. 'Looking' at thought becomes an act of following, an enjoyable act for me, the writer. Feeling the heaviness in the body is different, more curious, discovery, less of a difference between feeling and observer.
Concentration feels like getting closer and closer to no division between observation and observer. Maybe it is an act which mimics the way things really are. Where I can really be a part of things. Maybe concentration allows reality to come in. I get the sense that although there is no division, no separate self, there is also no non-separate self, no static thing to rest in. Acceptance is part of turning back to concentrtion or outward to awareness and has a restless, deepening quality, like it is a fluid.
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