Hello Monday, silence, opportunity of time. Hello awareness, choice, sensing, passion without fixation. What wants to be heard, expressed, fulfilled? What is mine to do today? What role at all scales will I play?
What voice to wear here, even? Selecting words forces a style, a vector of expression that collapses some waveforms of potential between you, reader, and myself. Even with myself as the reader, in every letter of writing.
Practice as scaffolding. Sit in that particular form, mudra as memory. Recognize patterns, currents, eddies, resolving radar lumps into identifiable causes. Surprising how easy it is to dream, almost like being asleep, letting the subconscious wander a bit. Sifting, layers dissolving, concerns connecting with values and integrating across the network of weights, nodes floating and sinking. A task rising to the surface, existing expectations and past intentions meeting interest and drive. The picture springs into mind, perception as control guidance, a natural movement to fit the vision, flowing with integrity and purpose.