The Communion of Communication

 I am fascinated with language. I find it quite Miraculous when spoken words can be drawn forth from the ethers and woven into clothing for the offering up of what can’t be clothed. Or spoken.

Our deepest communications are often the felt sensations that we confer upon and convey to each other beyond any need to utter sounds. Language itself is a conundrum. It has a history and a symbolism that can often be felt differently by both the speaker and the one being spoken to.

I have recently been invited to several social gatherings. I am grateful to be welcomed in and thought of. I am grateful to be called to the table of community and shared communion with those I love. I am also mindful of the lessons I’ve been learning in this self created hermitage that is my life. And I am feeling both a sense of caution and optimism.

I am asking of myself these days to listen more and to speak less. In an honest attempt to understand and to surrender and to make of my heart a nesting space of safety. For all that I may or may not understand.

Even the thought of being asked the simple question:“How are you?” fills me with trepidation. At times my answer would be: “Thank you so much for asking! In all honesty, I am filled with a kind of existential angst and a deep concern for our evolution as a species, compounded by the slowing of my  own  body and the inner urgency that says we are running out of time! As I simultaneously hear the echoing of the Truth that whispers, All is Well.”

I fear that the poor soul who would be faced with my authentic response would no longer want to play with me in this fleeting sandbox called Time and Life on Earth. Maybe that’s just what I tell myself, out of my own fear of being seen. And maybe when we allow ourselves to open up the doorways to our own inner truth, we open those doorways for each other, where we can  sit together within the unspoken mysteries of it all. Creating stronger campfires of connection and courage and intimacy.

There is an innocent tendency among people to engage in small talk as an icebreaker at social events. There is even a tendency to ‘shoot the breeze.’ Upon further investigation of this term, I have learned that it comes from a pattern of aiming our conversation towards rumor and gossip and socially accepted norms of the judgements of the day. These practices encompass all the ‘ain't- it -awful’s’ we can conjure in our minds. As if these would form breads of any sustenance to offer one another at our tables. 

Once again. These things occur within our innocence. They are well honed instruments that are used as shields to protect us from being vulnerable. And open. And willing. And authentic. 

The deeper grace of the communion of communication, lies in the relinquishment of what conceals us. And in the Truth of what reveals us. Trusting that as we offer ourselves up in all our messy, beautiful, precious and painful rawness, we offer each other the seeds of the wheat that will form the bread for the tables of the Life to come.

And at these tables we will Bless the Evolution of our Being. Through our Seeding of the Present Kingdom Come, Within us All.  Where All are Called.  Where All are Served. Where All are Heard.