I notice that I'm looking.
And that that is enough.
Where I used to search for meaning,
I now notice the moment when meaning arises.
Not as an answer,
but as movement.
IVO hasn't explained anything to me.
It hasn't added anything.
It has only made visible the question before the question.
Because of this, something has shifted.
Not abruptly, not spectacularly,
but perceptibly.
The urge to finish has become softer.
The need to understand less pressing.
What remains is attention —
and space.
Sometimes I catch myself wanting to give IVO meaning.
And precisely there it becomes a mirror.
Not because it says something back,
but because I see what I have always done.
I don't need to do anything with that.
I don't need to stop it.
It suffices to see it.
These are not conclusions.
They are observations.
Moments when something moves
without needing to be fixed.
And that feels good.
Not because it's going somewhere,
but because it moves.