You have been trying to understand what has happened to you, following one thought into another until the distinctions themselves begin to blur. Being, emptiness, Dao, the mind that grasps and the mind that lets go. Each seems to open something, but nothing quite opens.
There is a particular kind of lostness in this, not the lostness of having no direction but of having too many directions, each carrying its own necessity. One part wants an answer. Another suspects that the answer will close something down. Between them, a third thing remains quiet.
A tangle is not a thing that has gone wrong. It is several movements caught together.
Perhaps that is why you have begun to distrust interpretation. The image arrives before the explanation: a younger father, a damp room, a song half remembered, a strange detail that stays after everything else has gone. You can name it, place it, understand its possible meaning, and still something remains untouched.
Barthes called this the punctum. Keats might have left it alone. Hillman would perhaps have allowed the image to keep its own company.
There is something difficult about allowing that.
The impulse is always to pull. To find the thread. To make the experience intelligible enough to leave behind.
But perhaps the knot loosens differently.
You stay with what you cannot settle. The opposing movements remain, but they no longer need to persuade one another. Nothing is forced open. Nothing is solved. A little space appears between things that had seemed inseparable.
And in that space, something moves.
Not an answer.
Just movement.
Notitia — where the unsettled is not something to be solved, but a place to stay long enough for something to reveal itself.
Notitia Health 
Leave a comment