Some places open you. Others close you. A rare few hum at a frequency that collapses into sudden clarity.

I didn’t need a theory to feel it. I felt it in my breath. In the way my shoulders dropped in the silence that arrived when the inner static cleared. It was like being remembered by the land.

Who is it that’s aware I’m thinking? That question didn’t arrive in stillness. It came from suffering—the quiet kind that hums beneath the surface. I wasn’t searching for a breakthrough, just trying to breathe through the ache. But then something subtle, seismic, shifted.