WHEN THE STORY CROSSED THE ROOM

The part I’d emphasise most is that “go-to” and “come-to” are not awakened and unawakened states. They describe a changing relationship. Sometimes there is room around the story; sometimes the story becomes the room. The recognition of that movement—whether during it or hours later—is the useful discovery.

Story: WHEN THE STORY CROSSED THE ROOM

Verse 1

Eight little words upon a screen:

Can you send this before noon?

Morning light across the table,
coffee cooling in the room.

First there was a little tightening,
then the sentence:

I’m behind.

Then:

I never get this right.

Then:

Something’s wrong with this mind.

One email became a lifetime,
one deadline filled the view,
and somewhere in those thirty seconds
the story crossed the room.

Chorus

Go to the thought
before the thought becomes the sky.
Go to the fear
before the fear explains the why.

And if it comes to you completely,
if the whole world turns its hue,
nothing failed—

the story simply
crossed the room to you.

Go to the feeling,
let it show what it can show.
No need to hold a state called presence,
just notice when you know:

A sentence was a sentence,
then suddenly it grew
until there wasn’t any room
outside the story coming through.

Verse 2

“No reply” became “She hates me.”
“Can we talk?” became “I’m fired.”
One small ache became a hospital,
one tired morning: “I’m expired.”

The body heard the prediction
and answered before thought knew,
the stomach dropped, the breathing changed,
then fear said:

See? It’s true.

A circle made its evidence
from everything it drew,
until possibility became
the only world in view.

Chorus

Go to the thought
before the thought becomes the sky.
Go to the fear
before the fear explains the why.

And if it comes to you completely,
if the whole world turns its hue,
nothing failed—

the story simply
crossed the room to you.

Verse 3

Don’t build a distant watcher
to stand safely on the shore.
Go right into the tightening,
the words, the image, nothing more.

Feel the jaw and see the picture,
hear the sentence make its claim.
No observer needs creating
to recognise a flame.

Thought is thought
and fear is fear
and sometimes both are true—
but no one needs to build a world
before deciding what to do.

Bridge

There is a switch somewhere—

maybe before a word,
maybe in the body
before the thought is heard.

A picture of rejection,
a future brought alive,
a memory lends its history,
the organism tries to survive.

Then:

Maybe

turns to:

Certainly.

And:

This might

turns to:

This is.

A story that was passing through
becomes the room we live.

Verse 4

Then the seeker learns the method
and makes another sacred vow:

Catch the switch!
Stay present!
Never let the story take you now!

And suddenly there’s one more job,
one more failure to pursue:
the person who must guard the gate
so nothing ever comes to you.

But storms will sometimes swallow rooms,
attention narrows down,
and maybe recognition comes
three hours after you’ve drowned.

No medal for the early catch.
No penalty when late.
Seeing after twenty miles
still shows the road you took to get.

Chorus

Go to the thought
when going is available to do.
And when the thought has swallowed everything,
begin from where it swallowed you.

No need to manufacture presence,
no perfect state to hold.
The movie may go full-screen
before the full-screen can be known.

Then window.
Chair.
The actual words.
The body.
What is true.

And slowly there is room again
around what came to you.

Verse 5

The document looked endless,
every paragraph arrived at once,
the future stacked upon the screen
until the body couldn’t launch.

Then not:

Finish everything.

Not:

Rise above the fear.

Just:

Read this single sentence.

One small movement became clear.

No resistance had been conquered.
No awakened self came through.
One manageable little movement
was simply possible to do.

Verse 6

Sometimes the boss is angry.
Sometimes lovers really leave.
Sometimes doctors bring bad news
that no reframing can relieve.

“Story” doesn’t mean “imaginary.”
“Thought” does not mean “untrue.”
Go-to simply asks:

What is known?
What has prediction added too?

Meet the fact without the novel.
Meet the pain without the crime.
Let tomorrow stay tomorrow
until tomorrow gets its time.

Final Chorus

Go to the thought
when there’s room to see it rise.
Go to the chest,
the image forming behind the eyes.

And if the whole thing comes to you
and there is nowhere left to move,
even that is not a failure,
nothing there needs disapprove.

The story crossed the room.
Then later it was seen.
The room had never vanished,
though the story filled the scene.

No permanent observer.
No awakened state to prove.
Just life sometimes approaching things
and sometimes things seeming to move

toward you—

until a thought becomes a world,
until the world becomes a thought,
until the distance disappears
and later can be caught.

Outro

A message.

A tightening.

A picture.

A fear.

A whole imagined tomorrow
suddenly here.

Then—

chair.

Window.

Breathing.

Room.

The story had crossed over.

Ahhh…

okay, then.

Come back to it
when there is room.