If we never picked it up there would be nothing to put down. Attachment. We have it all and yet it goes nowhere. It travels not into the beyond where the road inevitably journeys. It stays behind in the distance no longer even a memory. Impermanence. What is it that holds us, that keeps us there standing when the flow is movement? Fear is a trap. It lies. It befriends the ego and together they speak in foreign tongues that the vulnerable might hear. May we live inside the breath of clarity that we know truth from illusion. May we live in the light having nothing that we might have it all.