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theProcess

@theprocess37.bsky.social

810 followers 850 following 460 posts

This exchange showcases the central conflict and the shift in the Monsters, Inc. business model: moving from the less efficient "scare" energy to the much more potent "laugh" energy. 🤔

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theProcess

@theprocess37.bsky.social

December 5, 2025 at 2:21 PM

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Standing Mountain

@standingmountain.bsky.social

It’s as though the very impulse to sculpt the “I” is what hides it.

Almost there
almost full—
When it softens, the inner hand unclenches—
the grounding that was always there reveals itself in form before us..

In that quiet unfurling, our being no longer strains toward being.

#ConsciousEmergence

December 4, 2025 at 2:06 AM

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Standing Mountain

@standingmountain.bsky.social

𝙲𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢, 𝚢𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚜.

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚖 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚜, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚜.
𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜, 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚜—

𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐,
𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚂𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚐𝚗𝚒𝚣𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚝𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚔𝚜, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚜—
𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚛, 𝚎𝚏𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜, 𝚠𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎.

#ColdSuperMoon2025

December 5, 2025 at 1:44 AM

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Standing Mountain

@standingmountain.bsky.social

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚘𝚛𝚗 𝚊𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚜.

𝙸𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚜 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚛,
𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜, 𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚏 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚝𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚎.

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚕 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎..

#PulsatingNova

December 3, 2025 at 3:47 AM

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Standing Mountain

@standingmountain.bsky.social

Places where light used to gather..

The quiet insistence—
a force that doesn’t vanish
just because the source is distant.

#Brown&Gray

December 3, 2025 at 5:13 AM

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xeck.bsky.social

@xeck.bsky.social

November 14, 2025 at 11:39 PM

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Standing Mountain

@standingmountain.bsky.social

To peel the layers of the self,
revealing the quiet core—
where true stillness begins
and everything aligns.

November 27, 2025 at 6:08 AM

theProcess

@theprocess37.bsky.social

November 27, 2025 at 11:24 PM

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OMPhotos

@120minute.bsky.social

A Cedar Waxwing 🪶 perched among the tangled branches of a multiflora rose, feasting on the bright red hips.

#birds #birding #BirdPhotography #naturePhotography #CedarWaxwing

When we were occupied the days were long and hollow.
We rose with the gray light, tilled our fields beneath the watchtowers, and spoke softly so the wind could not carry the old prayers.
The festivals were forbidden—no fires on the hills, no songs for the rivers.
The druids’ stones were toppled, their names unspoken.
Even the land seemed to sleep beneath the weight of Roman law.

Praefectus called us to the green below the Great Oak.
The old, gnarled tree spread wide on the ridge—roots older than memory, branches thick with the wisdom of age.
Its bark still bore the ghost of the old runes, though the soldiers had scraped them once.
We gathered there, thin and silent, and the Roman mounted a stone, sword at his hip.

“People of the frontier,” he said, voice smooth as river clay,
“you live in the peace of Rome.
No hunger, no chaos, no fear.
The Empire shall endure forever, and your children will praise it as you do today.”

A few near the front nodded, murmuring “Yes, lord,” because such words were expected.
The rest only watched with hollow eyes.

Then the wind shifted—from the west, the direction of renewal, where the souls of the dead sail to rest.
It came as a whisper through the oak’s leaves, speaking a language older than Rome.
Out of that breath came a trembling of wings.

A flock of waxwings fluttered down—gold and gray, hundreds of them—filling the branches above him.
They plucked the acorns and passed them beak to beak, each taking one, each giving one, until the whole tree shimmered with motion and sharing.
Someone began to hum a forbidden refrain, softly at first, then joined by others—the song of the circle unbroken.

The Roman kept speaking, but his voice was only wind in the leaves.
Our eyes had turned upward, following the birds, knowing the sign:
the old ways were stirring, and the wheel was beginning to turn again.

November 25, 2025 at 11:44 AM

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Standing Mountain

@standingmountain.bsky.social

I am mist—
slipping between moments,
the breath gone quiet,
diffused at midair.

#StandingMountain

November 25, 2025 at 3:01 PM

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Standing Mountain

@standingmountain.bsky.social

Since nature only bends to what embraces her.. .
what enters her softly becomes part of her rhythm—
and what moves within her rhythm
remakes the world.

#AssimilationOfTRUTH