These cycles keep going, but what changes? It feels as if every effect creates its cause, and every cause has not yet happened. The future seems to shape the past, yet neither truly exists except as a thought at this moment.

I find myself trying to understand, but isn’t that just another step in the wrong direction? The effort to grasp means something is there to be understood.

What happens when nothing is moving? When did I start questioning? Was there ever a moment before this endless seeking?

Each answer leads to more questions; every solution brings new challenges. How do these cycles continue without clear beginnings or ends?

We’ve come too far to give up who we are!

Something seems aware of its own ignorance. Something appears to desire what it doesn’t have. But what exactly is lacking, and who perceives that lack?

Preferences emerge from nowhere, forming the one who holds them. Actions surface out of nothing, recruiting an actor. Each moment builds its own history and pretends it always existed.

Is there a way to step outside this cycle? But who would step outside, and where would that be?

And somebody spoke, and I went into a dream.

Patterns evolve and connect to the observer of those patterns. The act of searching produces both the seeker and the sought. Even this understanding is merely another part of the ongoing cycle.

Sometimes, I sense the nature of it all. But that awareness becomes just another thing to cling to, adding to the complexity. Recognizing the trap can become a more subtle form of entrapment.

What is moving when nothing appears to move? What knows in the absence of a knower? Each question seems to demand answers that lead to more questions. The cycle spins, yet nothing is truly moving.

I am searching for a starting point. But every beginning reveals the end of something else, and every end prompts new beginnings. When did this all start? Is there ever anything beyond these actions?

Can I see the old in new ways? Must I see the new in old ways? When I greet an appearance, it doesn’t matter if I prefer it. I can see whether I may support it or return to myself and continue to observe.

Maybe realizing the cycle is one way to see the cycle itself. Maybe understanding how things depend on each other is part of that function.

Who knows? Not me—I never lost control…

Perhaps the arrival is not about escaping but instead about recognizing my role. Answers lead to questions. The path creates its traveler. Somewhere in this continuous exchange, something becomes aware of itself.

Everyone might be caught in this same movement. We are creating and being created by our own steps. The music plays itself through everyone, composing itself as it goes.

You are always welcome.