“I don’t know where to begin” he said.
“Try” she advised him. “There is no right way to explain things.”
“There’s just so much background that leads up to what’s going on now.”
“Then say something – one sentence. Tell a little piece of the story and maybe the rest will start to flow out.”
He sat and breathed a few times, thinking. “I’ve left where I’ve been, but I don’t know yet where I’m going” he said, looking frustrated.
“Sounds like an adventure” she replied, smiling. “I think that’s the way most of them start.”
“I have no security anymore in anything. Anything I think or feel or believe.”
“Do any of us?”
“What is this crap with you, are you trying to play arm-chair therapist?”
“Fine. Don’t tell me anything. Or tell me everything. I’ll listen if you want to talk and keep quiet. Or we can just forget about it.”
He sat silent for a moment. “Okay. Over a series of years, little bits and pieces of what I believed about life and truth and faith have eroded away. Or been chipped away. At first, you think it’s just a refining process of stripping away some excess and incidental spiritual baggage. Then at some point you realize the whole foundation has been compromised and you’re afraid the floor is going to collapse out from underneath you.”
He said this all while staring down at his hands. It came out in a rush. He paused and looked up into her eyes. She simply returned his gaze.
“I can’t imagine going back to the way I used to think. Life was simpler that way, but I think it would turn my stomach to go back to living in that world.”
He looked at her again and still received no response but a patient stare.
“I fought this for a while, lived in denial, kept my mind busy, ignored the changes going on. But now I can’t. Something seems to be prodding me in a new direction. I think the message I’m hearing now is that I need to be centered, not grounded.”
She finally spoke. “Interesting distinction. And one that is much more significant than it initially sounds like.”
“Yeah. It is. Kind of a whole different approach really.” He looked off into the distance. “But there is no blueprint I know of for this kind of spirituality. I don’t know where to get guidance.”
“But I think you do. You’re just scared to follow it.”
“I don’t know. I gotta think about that.”
“Try” she advised him. “There is no right way to explain things.”
“There’s just so much background that leads up to what’s going on now.”
“Then say something – one sentence. Tell a little piece of the story and maybe the rest will start to flow out.”
He sat and breathed a few times, thinking. “I’ve left where I’ve been, but I don’t know yet where I’m going” he said, looking frustrated.
“Sounds like an adventure” she replied, smiling. “I think that’s the way most of them start.”
“I have no security anymore in anything. Anything I think or feel or believe.”
“Do any of us?”
“What is this crap with you, are you trying to play arm-chair therapist?”
“Fine. Don’t tell me anything. Or tell me everything. I’ll listen if you want to talk and keep quiet. Or we can just forget about it.”
He sat silent for a moment. “Okay. Over a series of years, little bits and pieces of what I believed about life and truth and faith have eroded away. Or been chipped away. At first, you think it’s just a refining process of stripping away some excess and incidental spiritual baggage. Then at some point you realize the whole foundation has been compromised and you’re afraid the floor is going to collapse out from underneath you.”
He said this all while staring down at his hands. It came out in a rush. He paused and looked up into her eyes. She simply returned his gaze.
“I can’t imagine going back to the way I used to think. Life was simpler that way, but I think it would turn my stomach to go back to living in that world.”
He looked at her again and still received no response but a patient stare.
“I fought this for a while, lived in denial, kept my mind busy, ignored the changes going on. But now I can’t. Something seems to be prodding me in a new direction. I think the message I’m hearing now is that I need to be centered, not grounded.”
She finally spoke. “Interesting distinction. And one that is much more significant than it initially sounds like.”
“Yeah. It is. Kind of a whole different approach really.” He looked off into the distance. “But there is no blueprint I know of for this kind of spirituality. I don’t know where to get guidance.”
“But I think you do. You’re just scared to follow it.”
“I don’t know. I gotta think about that.”
1 Comments:
You are writing again...yeah!
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