We must be true inside, true to ourselves, before we can know a truth that is outside us. But we make ourselves true inside by manifesting the truth as we see it. — Thomas Merton
Whenever I have the opportunity these days – when designing a screen, maybe, or creating imaginary people for demos; things that don’t require great specific concentration – I’m listening to classical music, a lot of Brahms, but also Dvorak, Beethoven maybe and this afternoon Faur: Requiem Op. 48
I like pop very much, rock, rap, funk, shoegazer and whatever else it is called; but classical music often goes much deeper on a feeling level for me. You might call me a feeling-depth junkie! There is so much soul-food in the deep regions of emotion!
Visited a very good friend last night. I notice that we get much more candid now and really talk about those sides of us that are a bit more difficult. Not in a finding-solutions mode but in a listening, “Ahhh, that’s how you feel and think” – mode. And, of course, we get into a bit of theory of how these things work: we’re men after all, and we like to take things apart to put them back together afterwards.
I noticed when we went too far into the theoretical or mental side of things that I lost this juicy connection that I’ve come to appreciate so much in the course of this experiment so far. Or maybe it’s simply too theoretical for me when I loose the juicy connectedness. Whichever way it is.
As I’m moving ‘outward’ more with my tendrils I notice that now I can actually quite easily see where people are at; not precisely but I definitely get the feeling. I ask if my impression is correct, for sure, but so far it seems to be spot on. And I now see what one of the main reasons for the activity of “feeling-restriction” is: Uncertainty.
“Touching” whoever I open to in this way I cannot respond automatically, that is, I don’t know what the correct response is. I have to take it all in for a moment and let my “unconscious” or “feeling self” process what I experience and come up with a suggestion/impression. This makes every meeting somewhat unpredictable. Intensity is made of this. And intensity can be stressful, actually it is stressful unless I’m relaxed, unless I ‘hang loose’ in my reality.
Another “reason” for not moving into the feeling-field with another person is the fear of being seen, touched, moved and losing control over the situation. And also you might feel that you are trespassing into their comfort-zone, and people do get irritated when you do that. I’m happy that all of this emotional ecology and the feeling-field is only now becoming available to me in this strong manner. That enables me to tread slowly and to ‘keep it for me’ if I’m not invited to enter.
Mind you, that doesn’t mean that I’ll restrict myself and stop feeling my feelings, or, alternatively that it would irritate me. Non of that, I’ll keep looking, opening and ‘derestricting’ myself in experiencing the situation. But I will not enter into the stream directly, or only in as much as I can with total respect for the other persons’ preferences (in as far as I can perceive them).
This is a thin line, in a way, but I’m more obliged to the principle of honesty then to protecting ‘you’ against my perceptions and experiences. So I will, gently, respond from the deep that I’m in anyway, and this has shown to be an interesting way of contacting people I know and also those I don’t know. It has some as yet indescribable quality to it that I love and thoroughly enjoy.
There is magic to all meetings, I’m sure. And it feels amazingly beautiful if you are open and the other is as well. Then the being between us can awaken, the soul-flow-dynamics, if you will, that is the ‘stuff’ that beauty and joy of the interpersonal and sometimes positively transpersonal is made of.