Back from retreat in Portugal, in Coimbra, where we sat in a kind of haven planted between ribbons of highway and a shopping mall. As the days passed, we didn’t so much go deeper as we grew wider together. It rained and didn’t, the lights went out and we sat, the lights came on and we sat.
How to say it? Maybe like this, a twist on Nisargadatta:
I looked inside and saw nothing that I am; I looked outside and saw everything that I am; amid these two I turns.