The I

The I in me will ever be— the I is a seeker. Never complacent, nor slave to self’s desires, it must exist in singular: fully contained, fully grounded, before the I can become we. The I should be able to function— untethered from the eyes looking at, but not in. The difference is everything. Looking at is scrutiny; the other may be care— it takes time, and a certain devotion, to know the center of your I. And even that center may shift. So— center your I. Search your I. Love your I. Not as command, but as return. Your I— uncertain, becoming, ever-reaching— is an original.