He does with the piano keys what a Las Vegas dealer does with playing cards--a dazzling display of artistry. Eric is a jazz pianist who thrills the ears of those dining and drinking
at
the
Laurel
Court
Restau-rant located within the hotel. When he plays, you want to be there.
One of my favorite exper-iences
is
yielding
as he
caresses my ears with music. While there,
I
put a
hand
on
his
shoul
-der, visiting with him as he played the grand piano, in the center of the room.
We've known each other for
fifteen
years. He said he was performing at the hotel for the next two weeks. The idea of seeing him perform next week had me on cloud nine.
My date agreed to see him again in six days, the following Friday.
That Friday, I got ready, donning a different suit and tie. I called my lady friend, letting her know I would drop by in a few minutes.
 |
In this case, I'm referring to the
last two qualities stated here. |
"I can't make it. I am too tired from work. I'm sorry," she said.
"It disappoints, and angers me you waited until the last moment to let me know," I said. "I need more sensitivity. If given a proper notice, I would have ar-ranged for someone to go with me. I can't get anyone to go with me now."
"I understand your exhaustion and I am frustrated," I continued. I need consideration, sensitivity, and better communication when we re-late. Next time, I insist on being informed much sooner when you change your plans."
She agreed
I modelled being present. No judgments. I stated what was going on within me. No interpretations, assumptions or conclusions about her.
When we are present, we connect with what we sense and feel when with that person. We authentically express our feelings without judgement. When we do, bonding takes place.
Rifts become mended, the relationship can heal and forgiveness blossoms.
That occurred on another occasion, too.
I had a difficult conver-sation, crying three times. But, I was real.
The next day, cycling with my son, I was emotionally cleansed, as if awakened from the coffin
of
despair. My
im-passioned vulnerability the previous day helped me soar from a bank cloud of turbu-lent feelings churned by the intense conversation. It helped me emerge into a clearing of sanity and seren-ity.
Being present and vulnerable provided me with peace of mind.
I was happier, too. In my body and spirit, I was. I was not in my mind, the old unhelpful refuge I ran to when mistreated as a little boy.
What made this possible? When the trauma happened, in that painful
conversation,
I
was
present. I
expressed my anger and resent-ment. Quietly. Tearfully. Respectfully, but honestly.
I was true to self. I was not the nine-year old Pablo. I was not panicking, stuffing the anger or resentment I felt within.
It was fulfilling. I was with someone who respected my authenticity.
When
we
do
not
interpret or judge others, they will more likely listen. They will not be defensive. Why? Be-cause we are saying
what we heard
them
say instead of
why we think they said it.
It's not our job, be-ing a swami.
Our imaginings do not become a crystal ball, allow-ing us to judge. We can be entirely
wrong with
our
inter
-pretations. We are not God.
We don't know the heart---the motives---of others. As much as we assume
we
may, we
do
not know
what
another person thinks. We dem-onstrate arrogance, if we believe we do.
 |
We want to stop judging |
Judgments also harm us when we apply them towards those who have harmed us severely. Often, their behav-ior had nothing to do with us. It wasn't because we were
bad
, deserving
mistreat
-ment.
Their actions were the result of baggage they had before we were ever around, a result of their insecurities.
We are angry because of our interpretations, the men-tal static that bombards our minds. When that occurs, we are not responding to what happened. These negative thoughts and emotions may make us feel wronged but righteous.
We are stirring up misery, harboring bitterness within. Where is the growth in that? Living by our interpretations validates the story in our head. And it can be entirely wrong.
It may be as genuine as a wooden nickel.
Authenticity sets us free from self-imposed misery. Being in touch with what we are experiencing---our feelings, and needs---allow us to live in
reality. Being
genuine
involves speaking our
truth calmly, without fear.
We say our no as gently as our yes. Experiencing authenticity allows us to know equanimity and healing. And a peace of mind that can be gotten no other way.