There are people in our lives who think they know what’s best for us (we do the same, but that’s another story). Sometimes these people don’t listen to us, but are ready with advice. We can often let that advice go because it’s our inner sense we want to learn to listen to. It will tell us things we need to know. Things about ourselves that are not based on analyzing or guesswork. We ask questions; we listen and trust, and begin to realize that there’s another way-so many other ways-to be in this world. Our relationship with our inner sense will run deep and be authentic the more we rely on it and trust it. When we get very clear on this the fun begins because we don’t have to live in a small world designed by others. We can learn to hear the whisperings of our own heart.
Once upon a time, I didn’t know which fork in the road to take. I picked up my small plant and brought it into the bathroom with me. The two of us sat on the floor and I talked (it’s okay to laugh; I’m laughing too). I told the plant everything that was on my mind and in my heart. And it listened. And slowly I became clear about certain things. My plant was the right vehicle to begin the trust with my inner sense. We find the right vehicle when we’re ready to try a new way, and possibly not before.
“Our remedies in ourselves do lie which we ascribe to heaven.” -Shakespeare
“The more faithfully you listen to the voice within, the better you will hear what is sounding outside. Only he who listens can speak.” -Dag Hammarskjold
Why did I start thinking about this? I saw a play last Saturday called Red Light Winter at the Barrow Street Theatre at Greenwich House in Manhattan www.newyorktheatreguide.com/offbroadwayTheatres/greenwichhouse.htm . Adam Rapp is the playwright/director. I thought it was engrossing. Actors are amazing. If I were any one of those three actors in that play I’d be totally wiped out in a week’s time. I heard that the New York Times didn’t give it a glowing review. It’s freeing though to not criticize the playwright and the actors and enjoy it for pure entertainment. The desperate situation of three people and their apparent inability to change anything in their lives is an interesting story. In the real world that’s the way it is for many of us; it’s a common thread, and translates into entertainment in a play.
It would have been interesting to hover about and listen to the comments of the people as we trailed out of the small theatre. There was lots of chatter, but I was unable to zero in on any specific conversation, except to hear one person say he had expected a different ending. I’m not sure why I thought that a strange comment. I mean, the playwright decides the ending. Why should it be different? Comments like that are fun to listen to as long as you can hover long enough to hear the full conversation. Ah, why did he expect the ending to be different? I’ll never know. Perhaps it’s just as well I couldn’t hear other comments. Because not only would I be thinking of the play; I’d also think about the comments, and that could get rather confusing.
I’ll say nothing more except that watching Red Light Winter made me see how easy it is to feel lost sometimes, and when that happens the bigger picture slips into the background. A relationship with our inner self can prevent this from happening.