Wow

That shift you describe, from something that began in play into something much deeper and more costly, feels so real. It is often only in retrospect that we see we were standing at the edge of something far more profound than we understood at the time.

“Felt time supersedes all” especially landed. That sense that a few weeks can hold the weight of years when something inside begins to move.

I also felt the movement from understanding into something else entirely. Not knowing about, but kneeling before. That line, that it requires kneeling, feels so true. A kind of humility that is not comfortable, but necessary.

And I love the way you’ve woven in T.S. Eliot. Little Gidding feels like exactly the right companion for this kind of journey, that meeting of fire and stillness, of winter and something quietly burning underneath.

The distinction between attachment, detachment, and indifference also feels so important. Not loving less, but loving beyond the structures that try to contain it.

There is something in what you have written that recognises the cost without trying to soften it.

“A condition of complete simplicity (costing not less than everything)” feels less like an idea here, and more like something lived.