“What’s going on?” the World asks, deeply and gruffly.
Nothing. Nothing at all. Nothing at all except everything.
Look long. Look hard. Look at me.
What do you see?



Everything and nothing is going on because life changes too fast, too furious, too far away to see the change.

If I could slow it down and hover above the question and look at its face, I’d see that Life is stomping on innocence, storming away, with fear in its wake.

“What’s going on?” the World asks again, impatiently and nervously.

Everything. Everything at once. Everything that ever was and nothing you can see.

Look quickly. Look lightly. Look at me.

What do you see?



Nothing and everything is going on because change is happening too slow, too sorrowfully, too strangely.

If I could speed it up and hasten the movement and look at its face, I’d see that

Life is too heavy for us, loading us down, and letting us go.

“What’s going on? the World asks finally, hopefully and longingly.

Not enough. But enough is enough. Doing nothing is not enough.

Look deeply. Look sincerely. Look at me.

What do you see?

We have had enough of nothing and everything and we crave answers, crave understanding, crave compromise.

If I could find what is going on, examine it and study its form, I’d see that

Life is begging for us to find the answers, like a pleading child.