Song — Nothing Extra Here
Clara was waiting for something.
Not consciously.
Not in words.
But there was a quiet expectation running underneath everything:
Clarity should feel like something.
Lighter.
Brighter.
Peaceful.
Certain.
Something.
She was sitting on a bench near the water, watching people pass. A dog barked in the distance. A breeze moved across her face.
And her mind kept checking:
Is this it?
Am I clear right now?
It doesn’t feel like anything…
That last part bothered her.
Because if clarity was real, surely it would show up as an experience.
Something noticeable.
Something she could recognise and hold.
A thought appeared:
Maybe I’m missing it.
A small contraction followed.
Then another thought:
You’re not getting this.
A slightly heavier contraction.
She shifted on the bench.
Looked out over the water.
Tried again.
Okay… just be present.
Immediately, another layer formed:
Am I doing it right?
She laughed quietly.
Not out of joy.
More like fatigue.
Then something simple happened.
A bird flew low across the water.
For a moment, there was just:
movement
light
sound
No commentary.
No checking.
No “me doing this.”
Then the thought came back:
That was it! That was clarity!
And with it—
the whole structure returned.
Comparison.
Evaluation.
Ownership.
I had it… now I’ve lost it.
She paused.
Something about that felt off.
Because what had actually happened?
A bird flew.
Seeing happened.
Then a thought labelled it.
And then another thought claimed it.
She sat still.
Let it all be there.
Another thought appeared:
This isn’t special enough.
And this time, instead of following it, she noticed:
That thought… is just appearing.
No need to argue with it.
No need to fix it.
Just:
sound of wind
weight of the body on the bench
thought saying “not special enough”
All happening the same way.
Equal.
Nothing stood out as “clarity.”
And that was the point.
Clarity hadn’t arrived.
Nothing had changed.
There was just no confusion about what was what.
The thought wasn’t mistaken for truth.
The sensation wasn’t turned into a problem.
The moment wasn’t measured against an expectation.
Clara smiled.
Not because she’d found something.
Because she finally saw:
Nothing special was required.