A Momentary Stance

I stepped off the bare timber onto the thick knit of a coiled floor cushion. After hours testing hard edges, the soft weave sank beneath my weight, absorbing all recoil. There was no leverage to push against. I lowered my center, crossed my legs, and sat still. My back rested firmly against the leg of the low table. The air was quiet. I closed my eyes and let my joints cool down. Total stillness also requires discipline.