Three candles stand in a dark room. The wall shows itself only as far as the light reaches, and the surface papered in old sheets is stained orange before sinking into black at the edges. The wax came down divided into hardened marks and lukewarm running lines, and the stains on the floor look like traces left by many nights.
Facing light like this, the eyes narrow their focus on their own. Only the bright thing remains and the rest blurs, so the tension held in the eyelids lets go. The shoulders drop a little, and the inhale shortens while the exhale lengthens. The hands are simply resting on the knees.
If your gaze kept moving all day while you checked one thing after another, your mind right now is closer to a state that has briefly forgotten how to stay in one place.
You can light one candle and watch the tip of the flame for just three minutes. You only need to follow with your eyes the movement of the wick tilting, the light lying sideways and then standing straight again. You do not have to count your breaths, and you do not have to decide what you should feel.
You can try something similar at times when you are not lighting a candle. For instance, the few minutes you stand beside the kettle waiting for water to boil. While you watch the steam rise, it would be fine just to take quiet measure of how far the belly swells and how far it falls, only the range of that rise and fall. Without weighing whether it is growing or shrinking, it is enough to notice that it is moving that way right now.
The flame keeps burning even while it wavers.
