FROM TENDERNESS AND ENCHANTING MAGIC

15.01.2023
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FROM TENDERNESS AND ENCHANTING MAGIC

I am in a very very tender green. That’s how I feel… very very very tender. And so far, I’ve spent my life trying to protect that tremendous tenderness. And in a big part of me, it was clear from the beginning that I had only one desire – to get back home, to somehow find my way back, back into oneness.

However, that did not happen. I have a body, I have a life, and… I am here. I am here and not somewhere else. I am here – and I have reached the limits of a life on the run. It almost cost me my life. Then I wouldn’t have to be here – but with so much resentment, confinement and fainting despair that it wouldn’t be the home I so bitterly long for.

And now… exposed by the waves of life that have slammed me against cliffs, I come into contact with that tenderness. The fragility and immense vulnerability of the little child who has retreated into the depths in his distress, in his great fear of the world.

I encounter this tenderness. And behind it… in it…. and yet somewhere else… such a fine enchanting magic. It appears new and yet it is always there… and always to be discovered anew.

Quiet and beautiful, calm and soft and warm, delightful and joyfully loving. An eternal dance, a circling, with its fine strands touching the magic of existence, of life.

And now… very gently, without any pressure, this enchanting magic touches the little trapped child. Touches the pain and the cramp. Touches the eternal suffering in which it was caught. Touches its numb, mute, broken, powerless world. Very tender. Very tender.

There lies such great power in this tenderness. I can feel it… it is of an indescribable nature. All the words my mind can form diminish that what I feel. And I realize that I don’t want to give it words. But this image, this frequency, this feeling… this power can contain everything. It can meet everything. It can be with everything and absorb and change everything.

And the cramped child in its cave allows to be touched. And the structures that have held his life until now… are touched. The quality of softness flows into these hard, rigid crusts.
Every step is a venture, every movement a new creation. The crust, the cramp, the numbness, they know nothing of movement in this dance. But in the places of touch, a magic happens… the old melts, dissolves, and what is there, in its delicate thinness… becomes suffused with love and finds itself anew. And… will do its new movement. At its time, at its pace, in its very own, new, newly discovered way.

…

And to be a witness, to perceive in silent presence the magic of how cramp turns into dance, is the highest delight of my soul.

WEISS