I’m setting the intention, now, to be more present and conscious with every encounter I have. I’ve had many mirrors lately that seem to be the opposite of this, so it must be something I need to work on.
A friend says in February she’ll call in a few weeks. Never did. In July, I sent an electronic birthday greeting. No response. While in her area one day recently, I left messages, expressing a desire to connect and visit. No callback to date. What do I assume by this non-attention? Yes, we are all busy: that’s a given. The kind thing to do would be for her to pick up the phone and say, at least, “Eat s**t and die.” Or “I never want to hear from you again. Leave me alone” Or “I haven’t been in touch because I’m completely overwhelmed, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”
I was seeking help in the twilight time between attending my sister’s deathbed, and returning for her funeral. Looking for some bodywork, every bone in my body aching, I called a friend and was immediately told she was very busy with an important project and couldn’t talk right now. Honey, why the hell did you answer the phone?
A friend in a separated state from his wife calls and talks non-stop about his troubles and his joy in finding a new life. I patiently listen, hoping to share some of what has been going on in my own life at some point, but the opening never happens, the question is never asked, “So, how are YOU doing?” Yes, I do listening for a living, which is an especially good reason to inquire to learn if it’s a good time for me to visit. I will lovingly hold space for friends to discharge distress, if I feel I can count on the same from them when I need it. We don’t know if someone needs it until we ask. This takes a two-way conversation.
I’m at a recent memorial service. The widower had even talked about how we all need hugs. I joyfully approached a friend I hadn’t seen in a while and just as I was fully engaging her delightful essence, she pulled back to acknowledge a woman going by. “Hi, there.” She returned to give me a flash of her attention, and then she notices this woman is moving on, so she grabs her and says, “I really want to talk to you.” I guess she didn’t really want to talk to me. Obviously. She did ask me how I was doing on the way out, but in a rush, so it seemed there was not a chance to reengage and actually connect. On top of the loss we were there to acknowledge, this left me feeling especially sad.
I don’t know if I’m the only one having these sorts of experiences. I’m sure I have done all of this and more to others at points in my life. It certainly plays right into my sense of isolation and separateness and the deep wounding I’ve experienced in my family. It seems to me that if we were really taking on the task of spiritual evolution, there would be more loving kindness and conscious connection in all our interactions. And yes, I fail at this every day. Each person in front of me is a miraculous expression of the Divine, and a treasured Beloved Other. I’m setting the intention, now, to be more present and conscious with every encounter I have. The eastern Indian man at the gas station; the fierce looking black dude on the street corner, sign in hand, telling his story; the friend that’s been on and off in our friendship for 30 years, with much wounding, both ways, in the past; the new friend that has such tragic stories from his past: all the acquaintances of a lifetime, everyone, is a multi-faceted mirror of my own Self, as I spin through this world of illusion, density and pain. Could we bring a bit of solace to each other, just in a glance or a kind word, with full, loving presence? I’m setting the intention, now, to be more present and conscious with every encounter I have. (c) Jade Beaty, 2006
Dedra Desaire "Dede" Beaty
