by Rebecca Heisterhoff
There is a knowledge that cannot be found in books…
…not in the stories of others. Not even in the study of history. The kind of knowledge I mean can only be found in the present moment. It can only be felt. It belongs to you, like the color of your eyes or the texture of your hair.
You will not find the entrance to this knowledge on any map. And there are certainly no shortcuts on the way.
No tricks, no masks, no striving – no force will ever bring you close enough to catch its tail.
This knowing is unique, and at the same time part of the fabric we call life —woven together with all that has been and all that will be.It will reveal itself to you when you find a way to meet it — quietly, gently.
Imagine yourself in a clearing in the woods.
Waiting in silence. Patient. Just for a while.
Imagine offering something.
A part of you.
Trustworthiness. Steadiness. Curiosity. Compassion.
When you leave, you don’t do it without the promise to come back.
And you do return.
Every single day, you visit that clearing in the forest.
Sometimes you only stay for one song.
Another time, for an hour of dancing.
Sometimes you simply sit there in silence.
Perhaps one day, you’ll bring a canvas and paints to the clearing.
A notebook.
A guitar.
On other days, sea shells.
Cookies.
A poem.
From time to time, a prayer.
A question?
Over time, the clearing becomes your home. The sounds of the forest grow familiar. The eyes that watch you from the bushes no longer unsettle you. You know that the little hedgehog likes to eat the apples you bring. The melody of the wind, the sound of the near sea — all of it becomes known to you. You know the light the full moon casts on the wildflowers. You know how the early summer dew feels beneath your bare feet. You know every path, even in the dark.
One morning you wake — you stopped counting the days a long time ago — and you realize the clearing has become a part of you.
It is no longer necessary to leave the house.
Your heart is the clearing.
The forest has become your body, your body has become a forest —
a vast, wild forest, full of life, in which you know every lichen, moss and pebble.
All of a sudden you inhabit everything that can only be felt.
Because your body knows.
Because your heart remembers.
Because your soul has adjusted to the pace of life itself.