The other week I had a coaching experience that was something else. It touched the silence, and it’s a genuine privilege when that happens. I don’t know if you’ve ever been there? It can happen in any situation, but I’ve personally only noticed it in conversations.
What I notice is that each participant (and it can be more than one, I’ve experience this in larger groups as well) goes quiet. Not necessarily silent, but more quiet. Voices go softer, more quiet, and there is an almost tangible silence to the conversation, there is something else there. If I was religious I’d say God became present, or participating, and in a way, maybe that is just what happens. Only, I believe we all carry ”God” within us. That higher power embodies us all, but we don’t always feel it, experience it, or even remember it’s there.
But we do. And when we touch the silence, that higher power within is very much alive and thriving. This is not something that require a specific setting to come about though, as it’s always there. We have the potential to tap into this higher power at all times, because it’s within us. Always. It’s also what connects us. All of us. At all times.
*giggling a little*
This might come across as though I’ve suddenly been born again, somehow, and you might think all sorts of things about that. But, I don’t care about that, I won’t let my thoughts about what you might or might not think, limit me or my writing. This is my experience and I use this blog as a way to journal, I guess. I journal my experiences, my insights, my ponderings, my questions.
I wrote above that I’ve only experienced this in conversations. But, now that I think about it, that’s not true. I just realized it to being akin to the feeling of flow. And flow is something that I’ve experience by myself many times. I don’t always remember instances of flow, but since I’ve been out flying quite a lot this year, I have noticed that I do tend to end up in flow, on planes, when I bring out my miniPad and write blog posts. Times just wiz by, and I am left with a number of journal-entries/blog posts. Call it whatever you may. But in one sense, they represent moments of me touching the silence, capturing it onto paper, saving them for posterity. Like photographs. A snapshot of my state of mind, at that very moment.
Have you experienced touching the silence, and if so, would you please tell me about it? I’d love to know if this way of describing it resonates with you?