What do we know, except knowing itself?

I stare at words forming on the screen–actually, they form more intimately than that. They form right here.

An airplane is rumbling overhead–except in my direct experience, the sound is occurring right here.

I feel my butt settled deeply in my ergonomic desk chair (I’m working very hard on correct posture), but the sensations of that contact actually have no margins–no place that butt stops and chair begins–and furthermore, the sensations are felt right here.

I still taste cashew in my mouth; however, in my direct experience, that tasting happens right here.

This morning I brewed fresh coffee–I remember the smell. I remember that smell now, and it’s right here.

All of it, closer than close.
And when I break all of these perceptions and sensations down, all that I have left is the knowing of them.

That’s what we know. Knowing.

That’s all we know.

© Amrita Skye Blaine, 2013
photo credit: Entertainment Wallpaper