I stood gazing out at the place where saltwater meets the land. The shoreline, what a fitting metaphor it seemed for those uncertain in-between spaces within. It was twilight now and the falling dark imbued the scene with a quieting sense of mystery. Gone was the frenzied activity of the day just past, its churning waves of thought, emotion, stimulus. In the cycle’s waning moments, all external commotion dimmed while the internal landscape emerged smooth and unbroken under the gathering shadows. Here consciousness found itself standing, as it were, amid bare silences where harder contours had been softened by time’s passing tide. What subtle hand shaped these shores within, polished rough edges, deposited the stones of insight that litter the liminal mind? Life’s experiences, ever-fluid yet purposeful, worked upon us unseen, grain by grain, to weather fixedness and leave us smoothed. Not stranded but made porous, open to each new meeting where inner sea intermingles with outer sky’s vast depths. Tonight the sands were strewn with such remnants – half-formed fragments of reflection, questions that refused clear answers. I turned them,felt their rounded heft, watched intervening pools gather and thin as ephemeral answers dissipated with departing light. To know by not-knowing, yield to shifting currents rather than pin them fast…perhaps herein wisdom lay, in detaching from fixed outcomes and floating free upon deepening tides of being. Darkness fell fully as my focus slackened, thoughts drawn gently outward – beyond where water meets the land, beyond shores both seen and unseen, towards mystery’s solace. Another rhythm rolled and receded; the threshold state gave way to night. But its quiet whispers lingered yet, as traces left by waves that shape continually what shapes them in return.