If you sit somewhere long enough, I think you become part of it. Existing in nature unobtrusively silent, still and unwavering, soon the birds and the trees and the flowing water forgets you are there. Each mini universe continues on its own accord. What your arrival once disrupted returns slowly to an equilibrium when you sit there for long enough.
Has the equilibrium shifted, have you irreversibly altered the system? Though it remains stable perhaps it may not be the same as when you arrived. This is how you know you exist. The tiny ripples made by your every action tell of the existence of the stone – you. Eventually the waves subside and everything returns to its new equilibrium- how can we tell you were alive? Time can’t be turned back. Yet in some intangible way you are imprinted in the history of that place, the time you went and sat on the park bench to write and observe the squirrel perching in the trashcan.
How does your universe and its simultaneously minuscule and gargantuan developments interact with that of the animators of your environment? If you sit somewhere long enough perhaps it is possible to penetrate the murky depths of such a question. Like a poem, one must sit and absorb, get lost and stay lost and eventually the pieces will fit together not to form a complete photograph- rather an unfinished mosaic.
There is such beauty in the unfinished and unrefined, why do we attempt to sand down its corners to make ourselves feel better. To struggle is to feel alive. To love is to feel alive. Being alive and sitting somewhere for a long time, an exploration of how these Venn diagrams overlap…