Both my parents are trained psychotherapists. I was born able to process my feelings. Almost.
But…
Words can only take you to a certain level. Language is linked to our rational, linear, ‘masculine’ brain.
There is a wisdom that is deeper, and it is found in silence.
There are times when all that is needed is to be quiet and present.
To let go of analysis and trying to understand. To be where you are and experience it fully.
I believe that somewhere between language and silence, lies poetry. I don’t make up poetry. I hear it: when I’m very, very quiet. And I quickly grab a pen and scribble, because it hardly ever repeats itself.
This was heard at the top of a waterfall on the beautiful island of Koh Phangan, Thailand, after the clutter and click tourists had bored of hanging about and wandered away…
What is there to say
at the top of a waterfall?
Horizon expanding below
and out to sea and on beyond to wherever you may dream.
What is more important to say or hear
than the rush, the roar
of the water as it freefalls,
surrendering to the flow;
on it goes,
no questions and no whys,
kamikaze dives,
it hurls and flies;
the rock it meets
it greets,
pausing,
perhaps,
in pools, to gather its force
before diving
to new depths.
The words go on incessantly, unstoppable,
private thoughts hurled at strangers,
everybody looking for answers,
for a way out
as if they are at the bottom of a well
when really they are at the top of a waterfall!
Building walls of words
then searching for a way out
of the hole they are not in.
They have come to the right place
but are so busy searching they forget to see
To be
Here
Now
To feel the steady beat
of warm rock beneath bare feet
The soft caress of warm air
On grateful skin
And know there are no answers needed
That garbled words can give or ask for.