Being Here – Day 9
Being Here – Poem Day 9
Today’s poem is a supporting poem in our safety sequence.
There’s nothing you need to do with it.
No instruction to follow.
No change required.
These supporting poems are here to name experience —
to offer language, recognition, and companionship.
It is intentional.
Safety isn’t built by frequent change.
It’s built by familiarity, by letting meaning settle first, and by returning only when the ground is ready.
Just let the poem be read.
That’s enough for today.
(I have included the audio if you like to hear it as well)
Warmly,
Per
When everything feels too much – Noticing
Uncertainty is not evenly distributed,
but it is widely shared.
Plans change. Systems shift.
Certainty is offered and withdrawn
by circumstances far beyond individual control.
Many aspects of modern life require flexibility
— work, housing, health, relationships, belonging
— often without clear timelines or guarantees.
In this landscape,
not knowing what’s next is no longer unusual.
It’s woven into how things move.
People learn to adapt quietly.
To hold possibilities open.
To prepare without assurance.
This kind of ongoing uncertainty
doesn’t always announce itself as stress.
It can show up as watchfulness,
as hesitation,
as a reluctance to settle into any one direction.
Seen this way,
feeling unsettled about the future
is not a sign of personal instability.
It reflects the conditions
many lives are shaped within.
Noticing this doesn’t reduce uncertainty.
It doesn’t promise clarity.
It simply places the experience where it belongs
— within a world that often asks people to live
without knowing what comes next.
