Sensing the Invisible
"You're not convinced, aren't you?" I recall the words my ex-client once said to me in our session, remembering how I looked at her, perhaps lovingly, and smiled in response.
She knew. And I knew. After all, we graduated from the same one-year course where we dug and explored our issues weekly. We both knew that she could kid neither of us. I was not going to believe what her superego said about her. Words were redundant; there was no need for me to articulate any reflection to her. Just unwavering presence.
It was only recently, though, that I understood how that exchange was possible. (Often times, my understanding takes time to catch up with my intuition.) My steadfastness in knowing who and what she is turned out to be that mirror for her. Did I know many details about her? No. Yet, there was a knowing that went beyond faith and belief. And a remembering.
One’s remembrance of oneself and, hence, of another, can be an anchor. It was not that I remembered her identity or role, rather, something in me knows something true in her. Even if I did not know her, there was a confidence that something in her knows. A confidence in remembrance.
How? I am not sure. I have yet been able to clearly articulate for myself, or give myself a convincing answer. Convincing. How ironic. Who am I trying to convince? Why do I need to prove? But I do have an answer. Which is so simple and clear: I felt her soul. Yet, I let my internalized voices and judgement influence my view into believing that nobody will believe me, or that my truth is vague. Gravity flips, and I become rigid in the head.
How do we know whether we really know a person? How about you, how is your knowing informed? By immediate felt sense; by belief; by faith; by reason; by something else?
Often times, we can insist that someone is good because we want to believe in goodness, or we are referencing an ideal or best image of them that had been imprinted in our mind. I have experienced each of these before, along with the direct meeting of the soul. I learned that when it is the latter, I tend to have fewer words in response. Truth will prevail. It is as though I am waiting for the other to run out of excuses and justifications for why something is wrong with them. I do not regard myself as an optimist of humankind. Simply, my heart and soul that has been touched by another before cannot believe the lies they tell. There will come a time when they get bored of the stories about themselves they have been repeating. What matters is we do not leave their truth even when they do.
Seeing how I am with another, and who I have become, often reveals deep longings that I may not have been fully aware of. Like this one that emerges today—for another to see through my BS and know my soul, to trust and wait for my shedding and revelation. Ah…no wonder I am who I am. And I am on my way.
It is the unconscious longings that beget who we are. Even when we engage in inner work, logic is present. There is a path that we’ve been on, an invisible thread we’ve been following. If something does not make sense yet, most likely, there is still much in the unconscious that has not been brought into the light.
Do you sense your thread? Look deeper, what’s the nature of it?
🍯 The Dandelion Notes ~ Writer’s Fund
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Hello & welcome — I am glad you are here. I am Rosslyn Chay, facilitator, healer, poet—each of these, a very human attempt to mend our fractured relationship with our nature and free the truth of who we are from the weight of our history. The Dandelion Notes are field notes on my attempts.