I became the rock. Steady, held in a gaze, who was the observer? The water stirred and splashed about around me, trying to swallow me whole. Unmoved, I practiced being still, while the world danced and sang into infinity feeling part of this great orchestra. A young boy stands before me, his right hand crossed behind his back grabbing his left arm. His bare feet firmly pressing into the earth, as if he’s being held. Feeling into this place of belonging, a relationship determined by gravity. The river in front of him tumbled over the rocks licking the grass like a cow grazing on a cool spring day. The water remembering its path, the sky open and blue painted sparsely with clouds keeping the sun filtered. Across the river, a man with green khaki pants, a beige vest revealing a flannel shirt and round belly, with a tan bucket hat and round glasses outlining his face holds himself with a sense of authority amongst the trees. The child listened attentively to the story the man who stood on the other side of the river recited from memory. This man contained so much knowledge from books providing an understanding of the natural world and it’s processes, yet he did not fully feel a part of them. This knowledge was held in his mind more than his body. Behind his knowledge and imagined authority was a fear he held in his chest. His chest told the story of the helplessness he tried to resolve by searching for answers in science books. He knew so much by memory, yet this feeling of helplessness remained caught in a story that he could not do enough. The boy felt more than just the words of the story the man told, there was a knowing somewhere deep inside his body. That these words were part of the music of the forest, and that each of us is like a bird with a song to sing and a freedom that cannot be taken away from us as long as we can dream. He breathed in awe and inspiration from this whole picture he saw himself part of. As the sound vibrated through his body the breath carrying the sound to his feet where the Earth listened and received this message of words and emotions. I could’ve been one of the trees, just standing back observing without a sense of where my body truly began, only noticing the weight of a book I held in my palms, open as if receiving an offering. The man was reading aloud the pages I saw before me. They were more than just words on paper, I realized I was the manifestation of these words that needed a body to hold them and let them live through. The weight of the book felt like a giant rock in my hands, solid and effortlessly open. The pages stared back feeling seen in the gaze of my blue eyes. I became the book. Spine being held and supported, my chest on display, heart open, ready to be witnessed. All in this body I hold awe and inspiration in my inhale, helplessness in my chest, and being held, witnessed, and supported in my spine.