Being Here – Day 13
Being Here – Poem Day 13
Being Here – Poem Day 13
After three days with reaching — when connection feels urgent, necessary, hard to bear alone — today’s poem turns toward the other side of the same human pattern.
When closeness feels like too much.
This is the moment many of us recognise quietly:
when distance isn’t rejection, but protection.
When pulling back is the only way the system knows how to stay intact.
This poem does not ask for openness.
It doesn’t encourage sharing, softening, or moving closer.
It honours withdrawal as intelligence —
while offering a way to stay present inside your own boundary, without disappearing further.
As with Days 10–12, nothing is required. Listening is enough.
You don’t need to decide whether closeness is good or bad.
You don’t need to move toward or away from anyone.
This poem simply offers a place where distance can rest
without becoming loneliness.
Warmly,
Per
Poem – When closeness feels like too much
There is room here to stay as you are.
Nothing is asking you to move closer.
The body is already held by its own outline,
contained without pressure,
separate without being alone.
Awareness settles where you are sitting,
inside your own space,
with clear edges and no expectation to open
Muscles soften just enough to rest against themselves,
not reaching outward,
not pulling away.
Breath continues quietly,
uninvolved, not shared, not directed.
The chest remains steady.
It doesn’t need to widen.
It doesn’t need to close.
Warmth stays where it belongs,
close to the centre,
contained, reassuring in its limits.
Distance is allowed here.
So is stillness.
Neither is a problem to solve.
The body recognises that closeness can arrive later,
or not at all, and nothing essential is lost.
There is a sense of being present without being exposed,
connected to yourself without being required.
This moment respects your boundary.
It doesn’t lean in.
You remain here,
whole within your own space,
able to stay without retreating further.
For now, that is enough.
