I believe that we miss many opportunities to integrate because we don't see them. Primed for one or another 'first step,' when we don't see that step appearing, we get discouraged, even to the point of convincing ourselves that integration is obviously not possible here, at this time, with THEM! So I'll explicitly dismiss the serial, step-wise recipe for integration in favor of a less misrepresenting form.

Because integration is an organic phenomenon, it manifests in distinctly un-machine-guises. No gears. No springs. Cause-effect, rendered largely irrelevant.

I always know integration is lurking when I notice a certain queasiness in my gut. My normal routine, my sense-making is off balance. I am not, in that moment, purposefully pursuing, though I'm not lost. This is the unease familiar to anyone aimlessly milling around. You're early for that appointment. The meeting is getting started a half hour late. The line is MUCH longer than you'd anticipated. You and a bunch of strangers are just milling around, maybe waiting for someone to show up and make the experience work.

That someone is you. Or not. Your choice. But respect the 'essential milling around period.' While it might seem as though time's a-wasting, useful stuff is simmering there. The 'essential milling around period' holds great potential, unseen. Unsensed. For me, the surest route to disintegration passes right through the short-cut around milling around. That short-cut leads right into premature stability, where people agree to hold their breath before they even learn to breathe, on the mere anticipation of sour smells. This is not integration.

Fortunately, integration is a forgiving phenomenon. My point is only that the opportunities for integration are endless and not obvious. If it's all falling together as you expected, enjoy the flight. It's likely to be brief, and provide a dandy opportunity for you to reset your expectations. I am learning to respect the essential milling around period, which might well come at the beginning, but might appear at any time, swiping every sensation of forward momentum. No worries, then. Foundational stuff is laying itself down unseen. Maybe we could together almost learn to appreciate the sensation of milling around?