I wondered where the satisfaction of being with, holding, pressing against, lying on a tree comes from. Does it arise from within me? It doesn't seem to.
I moved all the time with the word and idea of satisfaction. Lots of thoughts:
the 'faction' is making, the 'satis' is enough.
making enough not making full.complete
making enough not made enough
making enough not given enough
making enough not getting enough
who is doing the making? surely I am?