We
can learn so much from the endless stream of our daily feelings and
emotions. Some impressions and sensations commend and reward us, others
warn or even seem to punish us, for the thoughts and actions that
preceded them and gave rise to them, whether recent or remembered from
the past.
Often I am too busy or preoccupied to hear these
silent calls. But when I do listen I am struck by the deep healing power
of some thoughts, and the contracting, soul-clenching effect of
others.
Thoughts that draw me out of the house of my personal ego
bring waves of healing. I feel it first in the center of my body, then
it moves outward towards the extremes, as if I were being warmed and
melted by an inner sun.
It
was like a a warm disentanglement of the knots in my mind and body; the
sound of the birds through my window grew closer, richer, more vibrant
and vital. But they had been out there singing all the while.
There
is a center in the body – or at least it feels like that; I speak
metaphorically, to describe the feeling – there is a center in the body
that needs to be touched. If it is never touched, life itself becomes
anxious, fragmented, disoriented, even distorted.
The
peace that enters when the windows of the soul are left open touches and
stimulates this center. But it can be touched in many ways; by love,
music, nature, laughing, crying, pain ...
There
are many of us who aren’t touched nearly often enough. We frantically,
even if unconsciously, throw ourselves into all kinds of quick-fix
activities spurred by our dissatisfaction, but still there remains a
hole.
So we
compulsively pour things into our minds and bodies : food, drink, drugs,
entertainment, facts, sports, work, idle conversation, etc., etc., but
the pangs of dissatisfaction are not appeased, and maybe they even grow
worse.
This
entails a vicious circle, for the saturated person is too dull, the
windows are brown and dusty, and there comes a time when the light can
hardly come through at all.
Except in those times of personal crisis or intense
inspiration, when the windows are thrown open or are shattered, and the
light spills in like shirmmering silver water, and we can breathe so
freely again as the exquisitely scented fresh air of the open blue sky
pours into the rooms of our souls.