The house is quiet. With the exception of the ticking of the clock, reminding me to make my way to work, there is only stillness. A magical time to reflect inward. All of the stories are really just my perceptions of the way things are. An uncomfortable thought comes and more than the thought, I notice the feeling. It is a feeling of needing something, a feeling of lack, something missing. And yet, when I bring my awareness back to this moment, I am breathing. I am not hungry. I am comfortably warm and supported in my chair. I am not alone. So why a feeling of lack?
My voice is not being heard. I lack an audience. My purpose is to share with the world my truth. What truth? In this moment, it is the truth that we all want to be heard and yet with so many wanting to be heard, who is listening? Only I will ever really hear my own voice.
Yesterday, while listening, and allowing my father's voice to be heard, he could hear me. He could hear all the love and compassion in my heart. Isn't it funny how that is!?!
No comments:
Post a Comment