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Inspired by Kieran Halpin “Talking’s Overrated”

“How long has it been?” I asked you, on that evening when it was time again. Always between the last time and this time. It is always so.

“You ask too much,” you replied briefly.

“But it would be important to know how much time has passed since,” I insisted.

“Why is it good to know that? What do you need that for?”, asked you.

“Well, then you can tell me what happened in the meantime, all the things I do not know, and I can tell you what happened to me. I need to know how far I have to think back so we can be up to date. Don’t you want to know?”, I tried to explain.

“Only one thing I want to know, only one thing is important to me. Not what you did or did not do, but whether there were moments when you were touched, moments that encouraged you, who supported you in your growing and becoming, which gave you the opportunity to expand. Not what you were, I want to know, but what you are. Not something interested in me, but you,” you put me apart.

“But I have to tell you about this time that led me from last time to this time?” I asked. It was a bit confusing. Somehow confused. Somehow in the dark.

 

“You do not have to tell me what was in this time, you do not even have to take a step away from me either in time or locally. For this you must only remain with me and be, just be, for in your being here and now I recognize your becoming, and no matter how long it lasted, no matter how many hours, days, weeks, months, years. You were now so, emerged from the touches of all the precious moments, emerged from what was to be here,” you said patiently.

 

Nothing to get you out of your serenity. Not even my refusal to understand that the most common, most accustomed questions are often the wrong ones. Questions that we ask, not because we really want to have an answer, but because we want to classify the happening, chronologically and as accurately as possible, because it has become so natural, without a thought, even a single, all the answers to make sense.

 

“We have so much information and know so little,” I said conclusively.

“We are filling ourselves with chronology and information and we overlook the essentials that really carry. We consume not only things, but also people and events. We stuff everything without question into ourselves, in order to eject it as unreflected at the next opportunity again. We are used to it. We have not learned otherwise, and what we cannot do, we usually do not try at all,” you observed.

“But yes, I do not know how to do that. I do not know how to begin,” I had to admit.

“Then I will try to go on with you, get together in ourselves and what we are,” you offered.

“Please do that!” I replied.

“It is good to be there, because the immersion in the encounter with you gives me the possibility to open me,” you said, and it was a good start without questions.

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