The Hand

There's a wall you've leaned on a long time. You stopped noticing it. You trusted it to hold.
Then a thin crack opens in it, and something from the other side starts to come through. Cooler, or warmer. Moving, where your side has been still.

And your hand is already reaching to seal it shut, before you've looked at what's there.

This meditation stays in that moment. It asks one question and holds it open. It doesn't resolve. What your hand does is left to you.
Find somewhere quiet to sit or lie down. Around 13 minutes, with long silences. Not for unwinding.

Transcript

Let your eyes close. Bring your attention down to your hands. However they are resting. These hands fix things. They have done it your whole life. A loose thread. Something come apart. They begin to move before you ask. They close what's open. They put it back the way it goes. Take a slow breath. But it out long until there's nothing left to push. Again. Quick hands. They like a thing to be whole. Now feel the wall at your back. It has been there a long time and it holds. You set your back to it and trust it. Solid the whole way down. And now. A line in it. Somewhere along the wall, A hairline. Thin. In the wall that doesn't crack. Feel what your hands do. The moment you find the line, They want it. Already half moving. To close it. To steel it over before it widens. Don't close it yet. But the hands wait. Just look at the line. It is real. It wasn't there, And now it is. And you did not put it there. It happened on its own. Far down. The way the ground shifts. And the surface only finds out after. Through the line. Something is coming. Not much. A thread of it. The other side of the wall, Reaching through to your side for the first time. You feel it before you can name it. A change in the air. Right along the crack. Cooler maybe? Or warmer. Moving. Where your side has been still so long you forgot air could move. Stay with it a moment. The thread of air. The first of the other side on your skin. And the hands move again. Faster. They want it stopped. The line shut. They are gone. The wall back the way it was. You haven't looked yet. The hands want to close before you do. One thing to ask why the hands are still. Ask it once. What is your hand trying to close before you have looked? Don't reach to answer. The question isn't afterwards. Let it stand in the moving air. Now, The hands. They can close it. Or they can leave it. That is the only thing in front of you. The light stays. Or it doesn't. The wall kept you safe a long time. You trusted it solid. The whole way down. That was real. The room comes back around you. The floor under you. Away to the air. A temperature. The small sounds the space keeps making. Open your eyes onto it. Slowly. The wall can crack. You know that now. It already has.