As a child . . .
we were told who we were
by those who loved us
and by those who didn’t.
We were told who we were
by our family
and by our friends.
We were told who we were
by those who cared
and by those unable to care.
We were told who we were
by those who knew us
and by those who did not yet know themselves.
As a child it was difficult to separate the voices.
Sometimes the most persistent voice won.
Sometimes the most dominant voice prevailed instead.
Sometimes it was the loving voice we heard.
We did not hear these words with our ears only.
We also captured their meaning in our body,
Deep down,
Below thinking.
Those voices became our story.
And our story became us
The patterns
The habits
The foibles
The moments of greatness.
That’s us. That’s our story.
Unless . . .
Unless we want to change it.
Because it’s not really us, is it? It’s just the echo of past voices
In our ears And in our bodies,
Deep down,
Below thinking.
We can hold on to our story if we want to.
We can even blame the voices for our story.
But if we are brave, we will own it.
And if we are bold, we will rewrite it.
And we can—
If we listen for the voice of Love.
Love from around you.
Love from within you.
It is calling.
Be still. Listen.
Not with your ears.
But with you body, with your soul,
Deep down,
Below thinking.
Become as a child once again. This time, listen for Love.
~~~~~
by Dave Driver