In the title of this post, I am paraphrasing from one of The Four Agreements (by Miguel Ruiz) – a book I read years ago.
A convesation this morning sparked my pondering – so here goes.
What if when speaking in our head, outloud, or with another, we only said that which we didn’t mind to have published for all to see? Think about it.
I am not talking about sensoring what comes our of our mouth but truly a deeper state of knowing that which we care enough to say even to ourselves in the privacy of our own thoughts.
At first, attempting to do this, I hear the chaos of loud chatter – words crowding and interrupting – competing and struggling to be heard. But with time, I hear the silence.
My Taxi is Waiting
I wander through the fog,
chasing myself around whisps of white;
a fairyland behind my eyes,
of images diverse,
specifics not in site.
But fog is ethereal,
my life cannot be,
I step off the train and out of my mind,
the platform solid beneath me – my taxi is waiting.
A member of the audience asked: “please tell me there is hope. I mean I watch the news and I can only do that for short periods of time.”
The speaker had shared story after story of forgiveness. The kind of forgiveness that is difficult for most to imagine. And I suppose after having herself witnessed what is possible when people just have a small desire to forgive it’s no surprise that the answer was “Yes. There’s hope.”
After the talk I thanked her. I was so happy to have met someone who’s life work is centered around raising the consciousness of humanity to a level where we get to re-write our story and find our way back to peace. I realized that although I’m not travelling the world doing this work, that the internal work I do and the lives I touch in my immediate surroundings is good enough for now.
So I left the lecture with Eileen R. Borris-Dunchunstang, Ed.D.’s book finding forgiveness and feeling hopeful.