Vachon Imagined

Clarity is a way of seeing.

It removes obstacles.

It lifts the veil of memory.

Clarity is what remains when the mind is no longer occupied with what it must do, what it must say, or who it must become.

It does not live in yesterday.

It does not anticipate tomorrow.

Memory settles.

The future grows quiet.

And what remains is presence.

Some call this the presence of God.

Others simply call it awareness.

Whatever name is given, it is our nature before thought begins arranging the world into stories.

Awareness does not inhabit time in the way people and objects appear to.

It holds.

It receives.

It cradles.

It does not argue.

It does not persuade.

It does not demand belief.

Those come later.

They are the movements of the mind attempting to organize experience.

Sometimes clarity asks us to establish a boundary.

To say no.

To step away from hostility, manipulation, or force.

But this does not arise from fear.

It arises from seeing.

Clarity is not concerned with controlling another person.

Nor is it preoccupied with defending itself.

It simply removes what obscures love, wisdom, and presence.

As obstacles fall away, so do many of the certainties we once defended.

What seemed absolute becomes provisional.

What seemed permanent begins to move again.

The world grows quieter.

Time loosens its grip.

And for a moment,

nothing needs to be added.

Nothing needs to be removed.

Clarity does not create truth.

It reveals what was never absent.

It stands still,

while everything else continues to move.