Words from Jeff

THE GIFT OF YOUR SENSITIVITY

You are awake.
 You are sensitive.
 You feel everything.

Sometimes you wish you didn't feel everything.
 But you do.

The depths of loneliness.
 The heights of joy.
 Sometimes it feels like it's too much.
 Sometimes you dream of numbing yourself.

It's a lot, living this close to life, this close to death, this close to yourself.

But then, you realise, numbing the pain would also numb the joy.

And you refuse to be numb like the others.

So you walk, your heart exposed all day, every day, every damn day.
 Great sorrows ploughing through.
 Bliss cascading like a waterfall.
 Unable to switch it off.
 Unable to run.
 (Where would you run to?
 There is only you.)

You, and your raw, broken open heart.
 You, and the thrill and dread of being alive for another day.
 Another whole day!
 Sensitive to the tiniest little flicker or flutter of experience.
 To the breeze on your face.
 The cracked glass in the old window.
 The spider web in the half light.
 The contraction and expansion of each sacred breath.

A morning shifting into afternoon.
 A secret or promise kept or not.
 A plan crumbling into shiny Unknowing.

You will take this intensity, yes.
 You will commit to this living, yes.
 You will walk this path, of course.
 Even though you will doubt it, often.
 There is no other path for you.

You feel everything.
 You are sensitive.
 You are awake.

And our noisy world needs you,
 now more then ever.