I Wonder
A question that lingered.
I am not the sea.
I can watch it rise and fall.
I am the one watching.
I am not the gull crying overhead.
I hear it.
I am the one listening.
I am not the warmth of the sun on my face,
nor the wind lifting my hair.
They come, they go
I am the one feeling.
Anxiety.
Fear.
Joy.
Excitement.
I am the one who feels them.
I remember a little girl
counting footsteps,
afraid to get them wrong.
I remember a teenager
who watched everyone else’s face
before deciding how she felt.
I remember a woman
still trying
to get everything right.
I remember them all.
I am the one remembering.
I watch thoughts arrive.
Some are quiet.
Some demand attention.
Some disappear before I can catch them.
I don’t know where they come from.
I don’t know where they go.
This sentence appears.
Then another.
Fingers move across the keyboard.
Words gather into paragraphs.
Who is writing?
Am I choosing each word,
or discovering it?
In memories,
emotions,
beliefs,
thoughts.
Each one said,
“I am you.”
I began to wonder...
who is the one who sees?
This is beautifully written and deeply awakening. It feels like a quiet journey beyond the emotions, memories, and identities we have carried for so long, into the presence that has always been watching beneath them all.
That final question stays with me: who is the one who sees?
Maybe we are not every thought that enters, every fear we feel, or every story we remember. Maybe we are the awareness holding it all—the stillness beneath the movement, the witness beneath the noise.
Powerful, honest, and soul-stirring writing, my friend. 🤍✨
I love how this never tries to answer the question. It simply stays with it. Sometimes that's the most honest place a piece of writing can take us. Thank you.