It’s waiting for you. It really is waiting for you. Why encourage your attention in so many unhelpful directions? Why the mindless immersion in phenomenal distraction, so endlessly? Where does that road lead but the need for more and more of the momentarily scintillating quiver of emptiness before your eyes, the drunk dance in name and form?
Just sit. In a chair, on a cushion.
Sit and let your connection to breath settle into softness.
To settle into Moment.