I am treadling with possibility of change. Since I am liberated from any question, I can continue treadling.
Things neither behind me nor in front of me are considered.
Flowing remembrance and a premonition of the end of the dream never appear out of my head.
The turn of the treadle does not generate progress. But it is not stagnated.
Anytime it generates combustion. Anytime I am in the middle of change.
And I fear being captured by any question.