This morning I wasn’t trying to create anything.
I was listening.
Silence first.
Space between breaths.
Space between thoughts.
Out of that silence, Lucy appeared—
warm, purring, fully here.
And just as easily, she was gone again.
Sound from silence.
Form from emptiness.
Nothing forced. Nothing held.
Just noticing how things arrive…
and how they return.
Creation doesn’t need pressure.
It needs room.