“Capturing” is itself an illusion.

All expression in the embodied world is simply editing, pulling small snippets of the expansive whole and showing it back to itself.

There’s a desire to grab ahold of thoughts and experiences. To hold on to them forever, but they both cannot be held and are always being held. Just not by ME.

The very notion of ME is what’s separating my experience from the felt sense of being held in a field of all that is.

The word “capture” is perhaps itself the wrong orientation to taking fleeting notes, as though we somehow need to grab something or it will be lost forever.

This is an anxiety-producing way to think of writing notes.

I would rather consider that everything is always here, always with us, and it is in holding space to be present to it that the very parts that are needed automatically emerge, and we can pick and choose what to show to others in this embodied world.

It is all here. The sea from which all thought and all experience and every Thing emerges. There is nothing to hold on to. But there are infinite things to notice.

And we’re noticing them whether we want to or not. Trying or not trying. Nothing is lost.

A writing practice that allows for this openness and exploration and isn’t based on CAPTURING something “fleeting,” this is the gentle breath that kindles the fire of creativity.