If we are fully present, if we are fully aware, if we are fully here. If we can silence the noise, the machinations of the mind, the constant chatter, the need to know, the need for explanation.

If we can favour simplicity over complication, acceptance over resistance. If we could just sit, just be here, however uncomfortable that may feel. If we can sit in our pain, our misery, our tragedy. If we can be honest, radically honest. If we can put down all that defines us, those stories, those ideas that we believe ourselves to be.

If we can put down the limited idea of us, those binds we have so expertly used to tie ourselves down. To be anything than what we truly are.

If we can accept that terrifying idea that we are not this story. That this pain is not real. That we can be happy. That the holy land exists in us. That the kingdom of heaven is within us. That the destination is in fact us. That we are the answer to the question. That every scripture, every prophet, every saint, every sage came to us, to remind us of who we are, and if this in turn can ignite the question:

Who am I?

And if at every instant

The question can answer itself

Then we can be home

We can be free

To realise

I am home

I have always been home

I am always here

A reality with no one to witness it

No longer two

Just one

No longer a drop

But an ocean entire.