Who's in charge here?

Sitting on the porch I watch as they arrive from out of thin air. Talkers, arguers, smilers. Some settle in, some are already on their way somewhere else. I do not invite them, they just appear. I do not ask them to leave, they just go. But when I try to push them away, they always stay and grow louder.

Who is running this place? Who keeps sending these visitors?

Did I create the first spark of that thought? No, it shows up out of thin air.
Did I make that decision at the end of logic? No, the choice lands on its own.
Did I start that movement? No, the body was already in motion before the story begins.

Intuition says I am the doer, the maker, the decider. But when I trace each thread back, the one in charge is not there. There is only the thought, the choice, the action, arriving from beyond my grip, leaving when they will.

So what am I? Not the doer, the seer. The experiencer. Present, moving with life, while some other force draws the map. In meditation, and in flow, this is plain. I am not directing anything. I can watch thought rise, emotion form, decision land, and the whole web hold itself together without my management.

When it gets really quiet, it seems as if I am the birds chirping. The breeze blowing. The thought coming and going, the daydream flowing. The movement of life itself. 

Maybe I am not the author, I am the page. Not the push, the sway. Not the one behind the scenes, the open scene itself. Only seeing, only this.