In the evenings I used to love to read.
Now when I try I cannot. I find myself instead dragged back to the mat, my eyes forced closed, my mind forced silent, my attention focused upon what I can only describe as patterns within my system being shifted, moved, adjusted, aligned. It is like watching a map emerge, or the remapping of abstractions rendered in a peculiarly perceivable form. Sometimes I struggle to make sense of it, and them. Mostly I just observe.
It is a strange thing, this training. It is full of questions.