Gibran’s Silence
I’m curious, why did you title the piece Gibran’s Cold when it’s surprisingly hopeful? asks the Dervish. Ha, crazy you should say that; it started out as Gibran’s Hope, I reply.
Ohh, then why the change? She asks.
I was still cold when I wrote it and there’s a coldness in me since the experience; I say.
Silence joins us and we welcome her to sit with us. Once she’s settled and is enjoying our offer of a cup of tea I say: I love our silences. I’ll admit at first I used to feel a tension about them but given the passing of time, I’ve come to experience them differently. In fact I look forward to them.
A long silence and then a burst of laughter from the Dervish. I join in and she says; well done dear absconded novice. I’ll admit that the silences initially happened — on my end at least — because I was blown off course by the sheer intensity of our engagements. It was a lot to bear, to feel in the early days. It’s like there was no off switch and it caused me some discomfort. I’d not felt that intensity in a novice much less an absconded one before. It was and admittedly remains my way to hold space for you without absorbing too much. As you can well imagine, having a toddler around now means space is even more at a premium. And if my needs are few, then space is prime among those few. As I have come to learn, it is for your being.
A small silence follows before I reply; and little did I know of myself that this too was a great need of my few, though I’ve also learnt my few needs are likely still many…
Needs are always a work in progress even if that progress looks like backtracking dear one; she says.
That thing, I should say this thing rather. This need for intimacy, this feeling of deep abiding care… this, is a need amongst the few I feel… the hardest to process… I trail off.
There’s a long silence.
I feel you about that and it’s as we both know a terribly rare thing to share intimacy between beings while draped in this human form; without resorting to the usual methods or even in spite of the usual methodologies of intimacy. We are ill-equipped; maybe over equipped and over socialised to reduce something as vast as intimacy between beings to the smallness of the common methodologies. While at the same time we can find so much pleasure in the small and common methods and practices to express intimacy.
Snuggled,I say.
Indeed, snuggled up against another being draped in human form is a way to put it and do it. But to feel snuggled up with thousands of miles and other human shaped beings in between is altogether as you would say; rarer than tanzanite. Also, I’m sorry about honey eyed babe. I could not know your path would lead you there but I know as well as you do what you seek is deep, vast and complete. What you yearn for maybe much less and what you allow yourself to have hope in is likely the smallest of all that.
Silence.
I am starting to see that, indeed my hope is the smallest version of the seeking and the yearning is the tension between the two. But does this not take me further away from practising non-judgement? Surely the silent dismissal of a human form is unadulterated judgement; I ask.
A hearty laugh erupts from the Dervish, then she says;
Before any post-mortem about judgement, let me remind you of the words of the Muse and how you jumped between curiosity and expectations with nary a thought. That might be more interesting to examine. You expected an entirely different methodology to emerge between honey eyed babe — actually, let’s just call her Heba?
It takes me a moment and I laugh heartily. Heba — yes, totally love that name; I reply. She continues; so there you are carrying not the feather of curiosity about Heba but the leaden weight of expectation of Heba. That she would welcome your expectation to leave behind the excitement of her work at its peak to snuggle up and read Gibran. Lofty expectations I’d say.
Ooops!; escapes from me. Ooops indeed dear absconded novice. That I’d daresay is the real judgement.
Silence.
But let me not leave you burdened only under the weight of your own self-judgement and add that I’m proud of you for catching a misfit and tending it quickly. We both know your previous habit of martyring yourself over a patent mismatch until you become the villain and all the attendant drama of that path. You saw, you chose. Relatively quickly and mostly painless. More than anything in the recent past, this is testament to your growth and practice of discernment.
A small silence.
Now get back to the work of growing. And let me tend this tiny being while she still needs my tending.
Gibran’s Silence; is brought to you with thanks to the Muse: “Curiosity has never led me to disappointment, only expectations have.”
© Jesh Baker for Oppi Stoep 2024, All Rights Reserved
