It happens to be in two places at once, to be both present and absent, inside and outside. Hang in the balance between an inner elsewhere, fleeting and fragile, and the vital weight of the earth. A bit of detachment allows us to watch our movements from outside, to remove weight, to mitigate the present which, by its nature, is continuously transformed into the past.
At the same time, the detachment separetes, creates distance, pain. If the pain of the loss of parts of ourselves, did not transform into liberation, it would be unbearable, dissolve our body in total quiet.
The present we try to adhere is as fleeting as the elsewhere where we guard our remotest thoughts?