Ask.

There is movement at the soul of the universe that I (sometimes) believe is good, that conspires in our favour, that has a hopeful, loving sentiment about it. But it is a subtle movement. Like the soft murmurs of birds in the background that we only become aware of once we start to listen to them, or the steady temperature of the still air that permeates all. But if we begin to attune to it we will find a presence, though perhaps not a human presence.

As humans we are so used to presence in the form of other humans or other animals, that we try to understand a presence outside of our humanity by attributing human qualities to it. I don’t imagine dogs can put human language to their experience of human presence, but they certainly experience our presence. Likewise, we may not possess the language that a greater, or more fluid, presence may possess — whatever shape it is or however that language feels like — but we can certainly experience another presence, and we can experience it as a good and loving presence, that even wishes to help. Perhaps not unlike a good human wishing to help a broken dog, and doing his or her best to win the trust of the dog despite lacking the dog’s language or the dog lacking theirs.

I think art, and particularly music, opens us up to this other presence more than a lot of other things, but silent, honest, reflection will do it too. The question that emerges for me is, what is this presence offering me and how do I begin to understand it, and then how do I trust it?

There seems to be something of letting go involved. Where we let our defences down. Where we lay aside our skepticism, cynicism, and intellectualism for a moment, and open up our curiosity and imagination to find questions of wonder. When we do this it is as though this other presence begins to listen, and if we sit with it for a bit, we can even feel it listening, with understanding, compassion, and even, is it possible, an attitude of benevolence towards us?

What is this good presence prompting you to do?

What is it wanting to give to your internal life? –

– to the endless inner landscape that so ardently desires to be and feel understood and accepted.

Ask.

This good presence is at the edge of its seat, holding its tongue, about to plead with you to just ask — and for a moment let go of what you’ve always thought the answer would be, or what you always thought you wanted the answer to be — and try to open yourself up to the vastness and the infinite possibilities that might just be swimming around in this giant unknown we call life.