This was ago

on learning.


for a moment I witness someone, y. are they a planet, and am I an astronaut? where are we in the balance, where am I. am I human, animal, astronaut, planet? witness? or yet another human, understanding how I might exist in this orbit?

these days I think a lot about the balance of giving, of taking, of listening. deep listening transforms the listener, e.p. says, a quality of listening that allows an opening. were you present to listen? could you? did you?

to really, truly listen, is to be attuned to the energies of the world, and what is present.

y says, 'where did you go?' I notice the feel of someone tracking me, of that kind of absolute presentness, of a kind of openness that is necessary to be who you are. when you are open, I think, that kind of magic happens.

am I open?

I think I might misunderstand openness for a curiosity, for a willingness to go places. openness is also a kind of vulnerability, a baring, an opening and a risking, risking your small fleshy heart exposure to the sun, to the world, to cupid's arrow, to other arrows. or so it seems, says the metaphor, but is this right, is this right, is this right?


perhaps it is such that I do not know how to dance; that I cannot sense these invisible lines of possibility.

perhaps it is such that I am being given gifts; the gifts of a heart, the gifts of stories, and that I must hold these with safety, with care, with gentleness.

perhaps it is actually such that I do not feel open to giving my gifts; that the questions I so sought were actually kinds of revelations, of the kinds of desires-to-feel-open that I was asking in support of, the desire to connect.



no, this is not it.

the words in the two segments above are not fully present, I think, not fully alive to the reality that I am holding.

what was happening was the mind against the spirit. the mind wanted something. the spirit says otherwise. the spirit says: this is not it, you'll know it when you see it; this is not it. the mind says: this could work, this could work, this could work.

you'll know it when you see it.

the heart feels, it does, it allows, it opens, despite whatever the mind wants: it renders special, important, with love, and care.

the mind thinks, protects, energizes, operates with a reliability built on knowing the possibility of the undesirable

the spirit says: yes, or no.


we'll know it when we see it.

again, the importance of a trust and a surrender.