## Dear Awareness— You arrive without footsteps. No fanfare, no trumpet of insight, only the slight lifting of the veil behind the eyes. You do not scream. You do not knock. You do not announce your coming like Sound does, or bloom like Connection. You simply are—always—waiting beneath the debris of distraction, behind the curtain of catastrophe, beneath the heavy hum of what masquerades as life. You are not thought. You are not the flicker of interpretation dressed in intellect’s garments. You are the sacred ground upon which thought stumbles. The hush before language. The breath before meaning. You are presence unadorned.