SONG — “THIS Everything”
Naomi was washing a mug that didn’t need washing.
She’d already washed it. Twice.
But her hands kept doing it anyway, like the body was trying to scrub a feeling off the day.
The kitchen was quiet.
Late light on the bench.
Water whispering over ceramic.
A neighbour’s radio leaking a thin melody show-through the wall.
And then — the familiar hitch:
A thought flashed: This shouldn’t be here.
Not the mug. The mood.
A tightness gathered behind her ribs.
A restless grit in her jaw.
A little storm-front of “fix it” moved through the chest.
She’d heard the line a thousand times:
THIS is it.
But tonight, that phrase didn’t land as comfort.
It landed like a challenge.
Because if THIS is it…
then surely that — the resistance, the wanting out, the self-correction — can’t be it.
Surely THIS means the peaceful version.
And in that moment, she caught the trick:
The mind was trying to create two THISes.
The acceptable THIS.
The unacceptable THIS pretending not to count.
She put the mug down.
And instead of arguing, she went closer.
Not to the idea — to the texture.
What was actually happening?
Sound of running water.
Coolness on fingertips.
A slight tremble in the forearms.
Breath held high in the chest.
A thought repeating: “I shouldn’t feel this.”
A second thought: “I’m doing it wrong.”
And then — like a microscope lens clicking into focus — she saw:
Those thoughts weren’t about THIS.
They were also appearing as THIS.
Not as truth.
As events.
A thought appearing.
A contraction appearing.
An urge appearing.
Even the urge to escape… appearing.
She laughed once — not a big laugh — more like a soft snort of recognition.
Because it was almost funny how relentless it was:
Even the attempt to get out of THIS…
was happening inside THIS.
You couldn’t step outside the room to complain about the room.
The complaint was furniture.
She felt the resistance again — but now it was exposed as a physical choreography:
a bracing in the belly
a tightening behind the eyes
a forward-leaning energy in the chest (as if to lunge toward a solution)
And then she noticed something even more subtle:
There was no owner of the resistance.
Resistance was just… resistance-ing.
Like weather.
The mind wanted to say, I am resisting.
But in the raw view, it was simpler:
resisting sensations
resisting thoughts
resisting the label “resisting”
resisting the idea that resistance is allowed
A hall of mirrors.
And right there — right in the middle of wanting it different —
came the quiet pivot:
Not just this. Everything THIS.
Meaning:
The peaceful breath is THIS.
The clenched jaw is THIS.
The hope for relief is THIS.
The irritation at hope is THIS.
The image of a better future is THIS.
The grief that it isn’t here is THIS.
The story that “I’m failing” is THIS (as a story appearing).
The wish for awakening is THIS (as a wish appearing).
Everything is included — not as approval, but as fact.
Not “good.”
Not “spiritual.”
Just… included.
She stood there a while, hands resting on the sink edge, watching the whole carnival rise and fall.
And the strangest thing happened:
Because nothing was being exiled, the system softened by itself.
Not because she forced acceptance.
Because the war lost its enemy.
The resistance didn’t vanish.
It just stopped pretending it was a problem outside of reality.
It became part of the weather.
And the kitchen — water, mug, radio, breath —
felt almost luminous in its ordinariness.
Not because it was special.
Because nothing was missing from it anymore.
INVESTIGATION — “THIS means: all experiencing, including ‘no’”
1) Define THIS without philosophy
Right now, without thinking:
What is showing up in direct experience?
Use only: sensation, sound, color, movement, thought-as-event.
Examples:
pressure in chest
warmth in hands
sound of fridge
thought: “I want this to stop”
image: tomorrow
impulse: check phone
All of it counts.
2) Notice the “two THISes” trick
Ask:
Is the mind dividing experience into:
“allowed/real” vs “shouldn’t be here/not it”?
Find one thing you’re subtly excluding.
Now do this:
Let that excluded thing be included as an appearance.
Not agreeing with it.
Just admitting it’s happening.
3) Split “content” from “existence”
When a thought says “I can’t handle this”:
Existence: a thought is happening (actual event)
Content: what it claims about life (story)
Rest attention on the existence for 5 seconds:
Can the sound/shape of the thought be noticed?
Does it have pressure, tempo, tone?
4) Resistance as sensation, not as a moral failure
When resistance turns up:
Where is it in the body?
Is it bracing, pushing, tightening, turning away, speeding up?
Now the key:
Can you find the resister separate from those sensations?
Usually: no.
There is resisting, but no separate “one” doing it.
5) The paradox that frees everything
Try saying, slowly, and check what happens:
“Even wanting it different is allowed to be here.”
“Even not wanting it is allowed.”
“Even the desire to escape is included.”
Watch for the nervous system’s response:
Often a micro-release — not dramatic, but unmistakable.
6) The clean punchline
THIS is not peace.
THIS is what’s happening.
Peace is often what’s left when nothing is being fought.
HoHo, Dr. V has done it again! Thank you Vince. Those reminders are so incredibly helpful.