I’ve never mastered the art of conversation although my favorite way to relate is one on one. In the moment, I am usually not as fast as I want to be. I get scared easily and fear I won't rise intellectually to what my counterpart will present. I struggle with emotion and possibly spilling words the wrong way. Sometimes it's hard for me just to breath; to be comfortably present physically. It's because of this that I miss important pieces of information or important opportunities to say what I want to say. Many times, hours later when the dust has settled, I realize what was really said; I think of what I should have said.
It's taken me a long time to pay attention well enough to understand the difference between judgement and observation. It's taken years to learn to not only follow the words, but also to catch what is not being stated. Just now I am starting to fiddle with my ability to provide subtle responses to the subtle nuances.
Days of late have me thinking about how we are all animals and we can sense what is going on even if we're not intellectualizing outloud. The other night I went to bed wide awake. I was connecting the dots of the day: the fine overtones in the conversations, the heavy eyes or strange looking-moments, and the seemingly random thoughts that floated through my mind. Once everything was laid out on the ceiling above my head, it all seemed utterly connected and clear given the perspective. I lost my breath.
What do you say to someone who has brought light in to your life? A thousand "thank you"s and "I love you"s. You say, “it was great seeing you”; you say, “I’ve missed you" and "I've been thinking about you”. Sometimes you don't say anything at all. You reach for their hand. You present a smile and offer a hug to bring hearts close once more. You let them know how amazing they are - today and tomorrow and every day. You celebrate the time you have had together. You connect.
I unfold my clenched heart over and over reminding myself that love is greater than fear; reminding myself to breath; reminding myself to say hello.