Everything is a Remembering

I was born into a name I didn’t understand and formed in a path that taught me how to see.
What felt separate was never apart—only distant.

What formed me

I was born a Brahmin
without knowing what it meant.

I was raised Christian
and learned how to listen,
how to soften,
how to stay.

For a long time,
these felt like different stories—
different gods,
different paths,
different truths.

But formation does something inheritance cannot.

It brings you close enough
to see.

And in that proximity,
I didn’t discover something new.

I recognized something
I had always been near.

Not because the paths were identical,
but because they were both
pointing beyond themselves.

What stood between

I never learned the language
of what I was born into.

I didn’t know the words.
I didn’t know the philosophy.
I didn’t know the names.

But I was formed in a way of seeing
that made something recognizable
when I encountered it again.

What I am beginning to understand now is this:

It was never a gap between traditions.

It was a gap in me.

Not a flaw—
a distance.

A way of standing between what is
and what I could perceive.

I was first formed by information.
Now, I am informed by my formation.

What remains

And what I encountered in Jesus
was not a replacement
for what I did not know.

It was a return.

Not explanation—
but restoration.

A way of being
that softened the distance
I had been carrying.

What stood between
what I am
and what is
was not the world.

It was me
the way I had been formed to stand.

Everything is a remembering.

Not because something was hidden,
but because something in me
had not yet learned
how to be close enough to see.

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