You notice your breathing sometimes.
In the quiet between tasks. After the walk. When sleep hasn't arrived yet.
It just keeps going.
No reminder needed. No effort asked.
The body borrows its shape from time.
Muscles soften. Joints complain. The edges blur.
Breath borrows too.
Each one arriving on terms you didn't write.
But the mind?
That one's yours. Free and clear.
Strange how we renovate everything except the thing we actually own.
We polish surfaces that were never ours to keep.
Maybe the real investment is simpler.
Guard the thoughts. Tend the attention.
The rest is just on loan.