“When you come to the edge of all that you know, you must believe in one of two things: There will be earth upon which to stand, or you will be given wings."
When all else fails, what remains?
Faith is a powerful tool. In times of challenge, weakness, darkness our faith acts like a compass, guiding us in our choices and lending us a much-needed sense of direction and purpose.
However if we begin to cherish our faith to the exclusion of all else, we risk isolating ourselves from the glorious diversity that surrounds us. As soon as our beliefs begin to limit our ability to openly hear others, a shift occurs. The system that once acted to our advantage instead becomes a burden, an obstacle preventing us from connecting, evolving and actively participating. We stunt ourselves when we presume to know. And in turn, we stop listening. Our assumptions fortify barriers. Shielding us against new information which threatens to alter our entrenched beliefs.
Truly listening means there is a part of us willing to offer itself to the possibility. The potential that something we hear might change us. That there is still more for us to learn.
What would our daily conversations feel like if we were to approach each interaction with this precious possibility? A promise to listen openly and intently. To allow that which we hear to somehow create momentum. To drop our shields. To experience the act of communication in that very moment...with a shocking uncertainty of what might result.
Willing to let the words and emotions break upon us like a wave. The word's power equal to that of water. Constantly shifts the grains of sand upon the shore. But the shore nevertheless remains.
Next time you listen, create space for the words. Truly allow for the possibility. And notice...
