Ten strokes. Then another Ten
Some mornings are like a blank page.
Or like the sea at dawn: you know where you are starting from, not necessarily where you will end up.
Maybe you do not even need to know.
Yesterday, swimming against the current, when the distance started to feel long, I stopped measuring it all at once.
Ten strokes. Then another ten.
The current was still against me, the shore still far away. But ten strokes were always possible.
I think the same is true when you are facing a blank page. Not knowing how the sentence continues does not mean you have lost it. And not being able to see where a road leads does not mean you have taken the wrong direction.
Ten strokes. Then another ten.
Until you lift your head and realise that something has changed. The shore is closer, or perhaps you are simply the one who has moved.
And what you could not see at the beginning is there now.
#NegativeCapability
