The sun shines through the window in the corner of my eye.
I blink and awake from a stupor of past and future meaninglessness.
I am in and out, in and out.
Present, future, present, past, future, present, past.
A wind blows by and stirs up the warm smell of pine: present.
A thought sails in, whisking my focus off to another place in time.
I center and ground, breath deep in joy and gratitude.
I want to be here.
I can be a mere observer of the mind.
And then the wild horses begin to gallop again.
Get a grip.