Without words, without silence

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A monk asked Fuketsu: `Without speaking, without silence, how can you express the truth?'

Fuketsu observed: `I always remember spring-time in southern China. The birds sing among innumerable kinds of fragrant flowers.'

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When winter comes, my relationship with the Mad Kitten shifts. She no longer spends most of the day hopping around the yard and lost in her own world. She is in with me, wanting to entertained, wanting to bond. The first few weeks that it becomes too cold for her to be outside are difficult. She is all in my business and just obnoxious as hell. Then a beautiful thing happens – she mellows and our relationship shifts to this gentle kind of companionship.

Last night, she sat in the middle of the room while I sat in my chair and we talked. I spoke words and she spoke with silence. It last about 20 minutes. The real conversation did not happen until much later, in the middle of the night, when I got into bed, she simply purred and stretched one paw to touch my hand and we fell asleep.

It has been a long strange week. I returned to life after illness only to wind right back up in the ER within days because it turned out the type of antibiotic they prescribed I was allergic too. I had a kind of acute poisoning and now it looks like I may be gifted with a permanent form of Neuropathy. It is a strange sensation to have. I will know within a week or so if the damage from the reaction is permanent. It is strange because in a way, it is a reminder that takes me out of my head and back into my body.

I don’t think that things happen to us for a reason. I think that we find a reason within the things that happen. The experience is making me slow down and take the time to really prepare and be present for something I will be doing in a few weeks.

Before, I could have told you with eloquent words exactly what I was planning to do.

Then, I fell into silence.

Now, I am learning the truth.

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