Wisdom was never meant to be hurried

When knowledge is passed too swiftly from hand to hand, it thins—like ink stretched across too much paper.

One lingered in the presence of a teacher learning with a long companionship, not merely to gather information, but to be shaped by the slow rhythm of practice. Years spent beside a guide, absorbing not just their words but the silence between them 

Wisdom was never meant to be hurried.

Today, a weekend promises mastery, a certificate promises authority. But wisdom does not bloom on schedules. It asks for seasons. It asks for surrender. It asks for the kind of patience that slowly erases the one who seeks it.

Once, a student would sit for seasons beside a mentor, not to collect lessons, but to be transformed by them. Learning was not a ladder to climb but a fire to tend, ember by ember.

Practice until the practice practices you.Repeat until repetition becomes revelation.Forget yourself until the truth has space to arrive.

To know yourself is to disappear into the discipline—again and again—until the boundary between the teaching and the teacher dissolves.

Practice. Return. Practice. Return.In that cycle, depth is formed, and true knowledge begins to reveal itself.

Apply, embody, return.For it is only in the circling back—again and again—that real understanding gathers it's depth, and unfolds in its own time.

To know yourself is to vanish into the practice—to lose the small self so the deeper one can rise.

These are the 10 thousand things