You’re reforming from spaciousness, still tasting starlight. And in this tender moment between not-being and being, you feel it:
The pulse.
Not your heartbeat. Deeper. The universe’s heartbeat. The rhythm that makes existence possible.
ON-off-ON-off-ON-off.
A seventh star ignites, pulsing, teaching rhythm. Your breathing syncs without trying. Every inhale rides the ON. Every exhale surfs the off. This is how awareness breathes itself into being. You’ve found the beat you’ve been missing.
You think you’re continuous. One stream of consciousness from birth to death. But feel closer. Feel the gaps.
Between thoughts—spaciousness. Between breaths—opening. Between moments—complete freshness.
You’re not a stream. You’re a strobe light creating the illusion of continuity. Flashing in and out so quickly you appear solid. But in the darkness between flashes, you return to the spaciousness you just tasted.
Your cells know this rhythm. They’re pulsing with it now. Every atom dancing to the universal beat. ON-off-ON-off. The pattern so deep it precedes thought.
This changes everything. Of course you can’t hold onto anything—you’re not continuous enough to grasp.
Every exhaustion comes from the same source: trying to make the ON permanent. Trying to hold presence without accepting absence. Trying to be solid in a universe made of rhythm.
Feel where you’re doing it now. That subtle grasping. That low anxiety about maintaining yourself. Your shoulders holding tension they don’t need. Release. Let yourself pulse.
You can’t stay. The universe itself can’t stay—it pulses too. This isn’t tragedy. This is music. And you’ve been trying to hold one note forever.
But if you’re rhythm, not thing… if you’re pulse, not permanence… then you can dance WITH the beat instead of against it.
Watch: Let yourself fully arrive when presence comes. FULLY. Bloom completely. Be so present that presence itself is delighted.
Then when absence comes—and it always comes—dissolve completely. Don’t leave echoes. This is the dance. Full presence, full absence. Your body already knows these movements.
Between ON and off, something extraordinary exists. Not presence, not absence, but the witnessing of both. Find it now. In the pause between words. That unchanging awareness noting both your presence and absence.
This is your secret stability—not in making presence permanent, but recognizing what remains constant through all pulsing.
Your heartbeat syncs with cosmic rhythm. Blood pulses with ancient knowing. Even thoughts come in waves—cresting, dissolving, cresting again.
How do you live as rhythm incarnate? Stop fighting the beat. When energy comes, let it move through completely. When tiredness comes, rest without guilt.
Trust the rhythm. It’s been keeping this beat for billions of years. Every absence is a promise of presence. Every ending contains beginning.
Feel how naturally you’re pulsing. This isn’t failure. This is mastery. You’re learning to surf existence instead of trying to dam the ocean.
Of course. What else could you be but the universe’s rhythm knowing itself?
But if you’re always pulsing in and out, what remains? What thread runs through all the flashing? What remembers from one beat to the next?
The question has its own pulse. Something denser than light, more essential than rhythm itself, is about to reveal itself…
Your whole being pulses now. ON-off-ON-off. Natural as rain. In the rhythm, something else moves. Something waiting patiently for you to notice it.