This past Monday, Brother Sid began our session by spelling, “I greatly find god between words.” And then he asked, “Chris finds god where?” I replied that I also find god between words, especially between my words and the words of another. In that space I discover a source of wisdom and energy that far exceeds my own thought. Then Sid wrote this poem:
As usual, he gave me the title last. And as usual, he included a little punning elbow to the reader’s ribs. Just to make sure, I confirmed that “Mistical” was an intentional misspelling. Sid was laughing as he pointed to the Y on his letter board to confirm it.
Matter fogs life. The awesome (or sometimes awful) clarity of existence is often only available to us at the very end. In this turbulent time, when words sometimes seem only to obscure truth, we must remember how to find awe wherever we are.
I find awe in between Sid’s thoughts and mine. I find awe in the multiple mysteries he commends into being with only 18 perfectly patterned words. These mysteries reveal the mistake of “knowing” what we can only discover. And thus the mist of ignorance begins to dissipate. Awe is knowing that you can never know alone. Truth is something produced between words and between souls. How grateful I am to reach out into the space between Sid and myself, and now into the space between us and you.
Unprepared,
Chris
As folks who live among fog, this is especially beautiful. I love "Awe is knowing that you can never know alone." So much.