because of the energy flowing around. All the atoms and electrons, protons and gluons and goodness knows what else we haven’t yet named, swirling along, never stopping. Aspects of everyone and everything that’s ever come and gone still all around us, caught up in the energy stream.
So when the mind is somewhat stilled; the sparrows in the ivy have stopped their chatter, we might just sense the flow. A glint of light just at the edge of vision. A ripple of neck hair. Perhaps that’s what thinking is? Encounters with the flow.
The light has gone now. The last birds have flown home.