Perhaps the most effective way to step into an utterance is to begin with the telling of story. I was a girl. I was hungry.
I had felt contemplative and mystical realities surround me. If there was anything consistent about my existence. It was that. The essence of other. The drawing me into beauty. The lifting of gaze upward. Or the same glances outward. Scanning. Watching. Observing. Hesitating. I believe there was always an understanding that caution was necessary. To this day, I can feel the sensation of watching through the lenses of my eyes. Softening my gaze, looking for safety.
All too rare.
All too frequently, I watch people doubt. That look within their eyes that lays residence upon their souls is hollow and sad. More often than naught, my head will tilt off to the right. I’ll notice my breath. It is as if all of a sudden there ignites upon me an openness. I feel transparent. Yet, no one else (or very rarely) notices.
That is what I do. I am watcher. I look. I see. I feel. I know. I intuit.
Breath, as a slight movement of laughter, puffs out of my nose. I pause. I do that well. Submit to the pause. That is not hesitation. That is a clear and conscious decision. I have learned the wisdom of such practices. When I was young, I was brash. I knew that I knew, in all that knowing I knew nothing. My heart and attitude arrogant to a degree. I watched further developed arrogance in others morph into something utterly dangerous. Ego driven revelatory entities would take stages, playing the part of expert, while being a fool.
I didn’t want that. I didn’t know what I wanted. Nor, in those moments, did the confidence exist to stand firm in what I saw and felt. Deep within me a hunger grew and grew. My eyes continued to scan horizon after horizon.
Age and experience are fabulous tutors. They would bare upon my person well.
It is given to us, to listen. To truly hear a heartbeat of another, the utterances of internal depth, takes courage. To look beyond spoken words, while still holding them as important, seeing a fuller articulation in and upon words not given to verbal exchange, is the calling. To, without judgement, hold space for another. Acknowledging their understanding while watching for orbiting realities. Listening with ears, heart, and being. Staying thoroughly engaged. Stepping intimately into shared space.
There is a beauty within the mystery of shared humanity. Eyes, truly, the mirrors into the soul ache to be seen. The call, “See me.” The hunger, “Know me.” The need, “Help me.” We listen to other voices because they seemingly speak so much louder, drowning out that which actually needs to be heard. We grant our attention towards lesser, buying into language of hopelessness because that is the way it has always been done before. Before genius can be birthed, the naysayer arises. Fear grabs. Not always an external force. Those are often, more easily dealt with. The internal judge berates, injures, and murders the infancy of embers that would have grown into the most magnificent of flames.
Sadly, the plight is of arrogance. The need for fanciful trinkets. The lack of foresight into what is true strength. The buying into the wares sold by clever merchants. Fad, fashion, fancy, and trend erupt upon as charlatans. They offer not the formation and gifts that simplicity hands out with generosity. They come to extract what you don’t have to give, taking even more than you think. Yet, to the side stands the simple. The ancient, knowing realities of stillness and silence.
In their offerings, the essence of what is truly human finds depths of rest. It is from that space that the birthing of immense creative force arises. I have watched eyes heal. I have seen hearts do the same. When space and time are allotted, when the essence of the human being is nurtured, when grace is extended and utterances are kind the power of those moments is immeasurable. Why so rare? Great question.
It is upon the moment to take the time, to find the language of compassion and to learn how to speak it. To become those that can see each other and have it matter.
It is those moments that will change life, children, education, work place and home dynamics. It is not complicated. In its simplicity, it is negated. The arrogance of pride that wants complicated and segregated is what stands in the way. The practices themselves are simple and in that reality, are magnificent. Starting requires no training. Pausing, unplugging, relinquishing a moment here and another one there, is all it takes.
You will give yourself back to you, and it will be amazing!