Go to that place where all the world is felt. In the cavern of the body, a subsonic tremor, reverberating. There’s a kind of forever that goes backwards and forwards at once. Timeless time. Practice collapsing time. What is it that holds you together, breathes you, dreams you, stories you? An ongoing folding and unfolding, pulsation, a long hum in your throat, a rattling around in your chest. An unending process of the galaxy, a cosmic happening. The chorus of spring peepers, the swarming of ants, the swirling of minnows in the pond. The fantasy of independence, abandoned. Don’t shrink away from what yearning asks of you. The doors of the cage are open. They have been open all along.