You are now asking what energy is. A product or solid matter, a work of art or something you have worked hard for? Or is it the name of the tingling sensation under your feet after chi-gong, or when the sea is rough and the wind becomes brisk, or when everything and nothing is not still, or when you perceive everything in opposites or negations?

You watch the waves crash on the shore again, again, again...
Sudden ripples change the vivid image of the still rising dark belts in all that blue. No water stands still.

The birds are here too - they whistle with their own unique tone. They know the day, the night, the process and the goal, they don't ask what energy is. They always know why they make a sound and where they are going on their wings.
They are in themselves, but probably don't know it - but they know the other.
The bird waits for the wind, and she won't perch on an uneasy twig.

You know you want to tell. It is also energy. Something must be passed on, cannot be stored,
must inspire the next.

I tell you that energy is what begins.