This is not something I learned to remember, but something that remained when remembering was no longer required.
What followed was not effort, but a quiet settling into what had already been living me.
From there, life moved on its own—unforced, ordinary, and quietly complete.
After recognition, a subtle misunderstanding can arise.
We assume remembrance must be maintained.
As if awareness could slip away.
As if God could be misplaced.
But recognition does not ask to be remembered.
It reveals what was never absent.
Life continues.
The dishes still wait.
Messages still arrive.
The body still tires.
Emotions still move.
But identity stops moving with them.
The End of the Inner Monitor
The quiet watcher—the one asking Am I aligned? Am I aware enough?—falls silent.
Not corrected.
Not managed.
Simply unnecessary.
Awareness does not need supervision.
God does not check in on God.
Even forgetting is included.
Nothing breaks when attention drifts, when reaction happens, when humanity appears.
Because awareness was never located in attention.
It was always the field in which attention moved.
Action continues—but without self-definition attached.
Effort quietly retires.
Not because nothing is done—but because nothing is done to become.
And in that settling, something even quieter reveals itself:
There is no longer a reference point required.
And what follows this settling is not alignment, but the absence of needing it—Nothing Left to Align.
So beautiful. Thank you. 🩷