Everything made of form eventually comes apart. Bodies age, structures crumble, all that is built in time is taken down again by time. And yet there is a dwelling place within you that no force can dismantle, a quiet habitation, still and unshaken beneath the movement of your thoughts and circumstances.
This is your own awareness, the silent presence in which your whole life appears. Its stakes are never pulled up, its cords never broken, because it does not belong to the world of things that begin and end. When you rest your attention there, in the stillness that is always already present, you find the one part of you that nothing outside can take away.