Things that often enough repeat themselves are gladly pushed into the drawer with the inscription “habit”. Some are good, others less, but no matter what category it counts, if once something is in a drawer, you is no longer thought of, because it is just so. You get the impression that it has always been so and always it must be so. You do not worry about it anymore. There is no longer a share. You just take it. Except when it should not be. This morning, when Lilith once again gave Ruben a steaming cup of tea accompanied by a smile, she realized that she was on the verge of staking his visits to the same drawer. This should not happen, because his visits were anything but self-evident. She noticed, as she felt comfortable in his presence, lifted and secure.
“It’s great that you’re here”, she said, as she sat next to him.
“Yes, I think so too”, he gave back as his gaze moved to the cup in his hand, “But don’t we know that anyway?”
“That can be, but it can be said nevertheless. Simply because it is also good to hear it. It’s a good thing to say it”, Lilith explained, while Ruben apparently did not succeed in solving his view from the cup. It was nothing more than an ordinary cup, a white one without print.
“That will be right”, said Ruben embarrassed, as his hand closed so tightly around the handle of the cup that the knuckles were white.
“Did I say anything wrong?”, Lilith asked irritably, who had not escaped his change.
“No, nothing wrong”, he said evasively.
“But what if it was not wrong?”, Lilith persisted, for she felt that she could not stay here. Just as a good physiotherapist, who has found a tension or a hardening, does not leave it until it has relaxed, she stayed at the point where Ruben was stalled.
“It’s just so hard to say”, he said evasively.
“What is hard to say?”, Lilith asked, unsure.
“All this, with ….,” and then he seemed to give himself a jerk, let go of the cup and raised his gaze, probably insecure, but anyway, “I can not talk about feelings no matter, whether over mine or over the others. I even feel embarrassed when I have to listen to it in a conversation. It is as if someone had forgotten to give me words, and I do not want to hear and understand those I hear and understand. Also, I am very good so far not come to talk about it. It is not necessary at all. It is so much self-evident. I can not do this.”
“It’s a pity, a pity for you, that you can not name your feelings, yes, that you do not even want to take them”, Lilith continued, “But only what we can name we can master or even just understand. If we do not name it then it dominates us. We do not understand ourselves. How shall we make ourselves intelligible to others?”
“I know it, I feel it, and it frightens me”, Ruben explains thoughtfully, “And the more anxiety I am, the more I withdraw from it. I can not handle this. Do not know where to start. In the area where I’ve worked, earlier, everything was clear. There is nothing different in technology but only clarifications. A term is exactly assigned to a thing. Exactly means by definition. Unambiguities, this is my world. But in the world of emotions, there is no clarity, since everything is so nebulous and confused.”
“Clarity and structure. This is what you are looking for, but life is neither clear nor structured, but colorful and confused and passionate. It spreads out where it is, and that’s a good thing”, Lilith replied, “And that’s exactly how it is with our feelings. They smuggle themselves in and grow as they just like. Maybe it looks like a savaged garden at first glance, but if you take the time and look more closely, you will discover details in the chaotic overall picture. Some will rejoice, others will hurt you, but you can go and name it.”
“I can not do that”, said Ruben confidently.
“Did you try it?”, Lilith asked gently.
“Of course, but there is always something that I do not want to see, which hurts and rejects. And the pain makes it vulnerable. The pain makes you soft”, said Ruben, “and one must be strong, if one wants to go through life without being damaged. “
“And inviolable”, Lilith continued, “naming feelings makes you vulnerable. You break through your protective armor that surrounds you and makes you accessible to people. Therein you are vulnerable. On the other hand, it is the only way really to be touched by other people. Some destroy plants in your garden. Other plants them. You never know in advance who will do what. This is the risk of opening up. But if you do not open, there will not be any new plants growing in them, and the existing ones will gradually perish.”
“It is only the one with the other. The chance with the risk. In this I am surrendered to another man, and that makes me afraid. What should prevent someone from hurting me?”, Ruben asked.
“What could make him hurt you?”, Lilith countered.
“Because he can”, Ruben replied lightly.
“But he can also revive you. It is his decision. So far you are at the mercy of him”, Lilith means thoughtfully, “If you approach a human being, if you open up to him, and he himself do it also, gently, step by step, if you let him in and he you, then the encounter is based on equality. If he also gives you the opportunity to hurt or revive, then you are in balance. If you find a person who accepts you as you are, also in your weakness and vulnerability, then it is good to open, and then you will find the right words. You will lead and discover together what lives and grows within you, which lives and grows within the other. “
Ruben looked at Lilith, who, while she spoke, had taken his hands in hers. Warm and gentle it felt. Protection and security went out of her. And it was, as he began to feel himself, in himself, and indeed the words of which he believed he did not know them began to wake up.
And on this evening, the sculpture of a hand holding another was found in display, for acceptance can not be bought, nowhere. Assumption is a gift that we reciprocate.