And what I am hearing, is my preference.
I listen to the person before me. There is something about what is going on that I can barely put my finger on. I make the intention to shift my hearing. I hear more. I hear what they are not saying. I understand.
I sit in silence. I feel the boundaries that I have set for myself. I sense what is potentially beyond that boundaries – a limitless space. I wonder why I am here and not there. Then I realise I am neither and both.
There are things I need to do, yet I cannot bring myself to do them; Until that moment, when I am mysteriously moved to do so. Just like that. And they are always magically done.
I am realising my attachments. My clinging to memories or impressions I have on experiences and people. My dislike towards these habits and their superficiality. My inability to change them. I stay with them. They take me further and help me see. They point to something so real, so true, so beautiful.
Angels, which I usually refer to as friends, pets, and nature, remind me of where my home is. I would love to say that it is “here and now”, but that would be an oversimplification. They remind me of what I love: to lightly be as straightforward and honest as I possibly can.
To relax into being. To be with what matters. To respectfully and attentively listen. To be aware, rather than concentrate. To allow what comes to come. To stay with what is. To honour it and give it its due. To trust and be in awe with this wonderful theater of life. To be alive.
I am blessed with various means to express this. Writing. Conversations in gatherings such as with The Beshara School and The Ibn ‘Arabi Society. Meditation with Bali Usada health meditation and Meditasi Mengenal Diri. Biodynamic Craniosacral Therapy practice. Serving tea and nibbles. Essential oils. Gardening. Yoga. Social activities. Families, friends and communities.
All are of a similar vein, that is, of allowing and being. To totally give myself to be in service for the moment. To trust every expression of life. With due appreciation and without judgement. Without even wanting to change a thing. Yet allowing shifts to happen as and when they happens.
A celebration of the richness of life. An acknowledgement of the One. Where there is no dancer, there only the dance.
I can only offer myself to life — and the “I” is used here for lack of a better expression, may the I that never was be dissolved. Anyway, sometimes life includes you.
I am offering. Through tea, conversation of any kind, or silent companionship.