Vachon Imagined

When we become educated, no matter what that addition or conditioning looks like, we can sometimes lose the ability to hear the gap between the invisible and the visible.

But the gap is still there.

We call it a void.

A chasm.

As though nothing could exist there.

But just because we don’t know it yet, can’t fully label it yet, or find it strange doesn’t mean it isn’t there.

Anyone can develop the capacity to feel it.

To sense it.

To hear it.

We did this as children.

Easily.

Before we decided what was real and what wasn’t, we simply experienced life.

The life in the person we didn’t like.

The person we thought was strange.

The person we called crazy because we needed a word for what we couldn’t understand.

Then we learned our way out of it.

We became certain.

And in our certainty, arrogant.

We created patterns and repeated them until the patterns themselves became things we believed in.

But repetition doesn’t make something true.

No pattern can undo what is.

No label can contain it.

No identity can hold it still.

We can look again.

We can become still enough to see into things with a kind of laser-like focus.

And the fixed identities begin to melt.

What remains is a steadiness.

A naked purity.

It simply is.

And when we return to that purity, we are saved.

Saved from the world that misleads us.

And perhaps more importantly, saved from ourselves.

This can only be perceived by becoming receptive.

Emboldened by the light.

Standing in the light.

Standing in the gap.

Long enough for someone else to remember it too.