The Ferocity of Witnessing
It can be hard to realize, until you’ve done it, that you’ve just spent a time of being-ness. A time that is empty of activity but full of perception and of “the ferocity of witnessing”, as a wonderful poet just said ( I need to find his name — from NJ, a factory worker and poet, if anyone knows who I mean).
Weighty guilt keeps us busy. Dizzy manic action, fueled by fear of fear, anger at anger, or grief over sorrow sweeps away the stops in life.
Three beloved stops: Stop doing. Stop making something of the not-doing. Stop justifying.
In my case, guilt hung heavy, filling moments of void no longer full of justification.
But then, this summer, guilt moved for me. It moved. It wore out.
I kept doing nothing, watching, perceiving. I wondered if I was depressed. I wondered if I was mistaken. I wondered if I was ill. But when I stopped wondering, I felt the thrill of rightness. The world was full. And I could keep going. ‘Nothing’ tied me to the chair, kept me awake, shut the computer, turned the phone volume off.
I witnessed, and it was ferocious.
How lovely to see a blog entry. I really look forward to those because they help me with my own journey, and I’ve started so much later than you have. It is a beautiful entry and a beautiful, beautiful photo…..Karleen
Really wonderful, I enjoyed this journey into your meanderings.
Simply a beautiful reminder ….
An inspired post, thank you Dunya! Love the idea of exhausting the things that simply don’t work for us, letting them run their course and then giving them the space to leave us, once and for all.
simply profound…fresh revelation of what I can look forward to and a mirror of what I have in part, experienced…