Whisper #372

A: I do not want my beloved to be perfect — far from it. I want them to be open, attentive and receptive to me.

B: Why not? A perfect person is surely a delight and does not come with torments and tragedies associated with imperfection.

A: Because above all I value love and nothing makes my love lazier than perfection, than things being as they should be, than my beloved being perfect. Like life, love is at its fullest and can grow to its highest when faced with challenges.

You wouldn’t know it and maybe you dare not see it, or if you’ve seen it, your vanity dare not accept it, but love also has its skills, its muscles and, like a living organism, like a unity between parts, it can grow or it can wither.

B: But there is surely something you like your beloved to be — or else how can you even be attracted to someone in the first place?

A: Yes, I want my beloved to be rough and ready, not smooth and sorry. But what has that got to do with perfection?


Whisper #369

On that first wink of daybreak, my Sun turned to me and She said:

I am bursting with energy – if I don’t fly away, then I will explode. I must be channeled, but first I must be absorbed — I must have a conductor, don’t you understand?

Please absorb me and then channel me — but beware, because you cannot hide from me.

I know the difference between the conductor who absorbs and channels and the insulator who pretends to do so by absorbing enough before splurging out the best of me.

Can you absorb and gently guide me towards something meaningful, or are you squandering me — are you forcing me to fly away, to explode with ferocious force…?

Whisper #366

A failed man is as good as his humility — and that humility is as beautiful as its appearance as a calm repose in the face of his failure, not as a pain in whose presence he crumbles, or goes in on himself, or looks away in disgust or anger or hatred or fear . . .

Who would have thought that from humility can grow a towering, oak-like strength with shimmering branches of calm, which we associate with wisdom and maturity — we find its most beautiful appearance in men, generally irrespective of age.

But it is common in older men, in whom ambition is tempered by the enlightenment and foresight which the paradoxical marriage of death with long life ushers in.

Men who age badly carry a wounded humility or, its sibling, a defensive vanity — and nobody sees or knows it better and more deeply, nobody feels it more fully and is more affected by it than the women who love them.

Don’t believe me — get out of your shell and start connecting deeply with people, start speaking to people about something other than superficial, political and ideological categories and concepts which dominate our common discourse.

Start to feel people and look past their words and propositions, observe their emotions, their reactions, their behaviours, their choices . . .  Feel people.

Whisper #364

A: What would you say is love in practice?

B: To be so open to and trusting of someone, and often when you least want to be, as to enable them to judge you on their own terms — and for you to receive their judgment as though it came from someone you can be open and trusting towards, and often when they least appear so to you. 

It is for this reason that, for many, love has the whiff of self-denial and self-negation about it. Its natural opposite is not hatred or fear, but the pride which mingles in both. 

Whisper #363

There are four activities during which people show the content of their soul and in many ways their beauty: when they are working, when they are eating, when they are sleeping and the fourth one we may leave to the imagination.

Only lovers have the outrageous courage, the untempered temerity, to observe and savour those activities in others. Yet, most people who might look at us in that way strike us creeps, as though they intrude precisely where they shouldn’t.

Why should that be so? — Because our vulnerability is reserved for those we know and trust, and although others may come across it in our day-to-day activities, they reserve no right to it which we do not give of our own accord.

Whisper #362

A heaviness suddenly fell upon Him, dropping His shoulders and then a darkness descended sweeping right through His body.

He furrowed his brow, narrowed his eyes and gently opened his mouth to speak — then She interrupted:

Let me make it simple for you, so there is no reason for you to speak and transfer your heavy, dark spirit to me.

You value my light, so do not give me your darkness.

That is the injustice with which you have to live —

I want the fruits, without the labour.

I want the prize, without winning.

I want to win, without competing, without beating someone else.

I want to be loved, without having to do anything except — be.

I want to be known, without having to do something important.

I want to do something important, without being judged.

Yes — that is my paradox, what I want. Live with it. Digest it.

Let me feel fully what it brings out in you, but do not speak a word of it — or I will destroy you.


Whisper #357

The spirit-chef knows how long a soul must bake before it is ready to be served into love.


A: What is it, light of my life; why has such dark-grey gloom descended upon you?

B: I am dissatisfied. I do not feel like you see me. I want to run away, but I do not dare to.

A:  So, you’d rather sit there, feeling sorry for yourself.

B: Yes —

A: Have I started seeing you, yet?

B: … Yes.

A: What if I said to you that I have been seeing you all along and know precisely to what you refer by this feeling and the mood in which it has put you?

B: You are lying.

A: Ah, but would I lie to the light of my life without first willing her darkness? I started our conversation by wanting to blow away the gloomy clouds hovering over you — I saw you enough to know you’re gloomy.

B: You did.

A: Then have some faith.


A: There is a specific part of your life — something true of you — about which you are not happy. You find it difficult to open up about it and when I try to open you up, you block me out of pain, shame and anger — sometimes it is one, sometimes it is another and often it is a combination of all three.

I won’t mention it, because the moment I do, you will feel it and shut down.

B: (*) Blush (*)

A: I will journey with you to that place, together, as we hold hands — but I will never compensate for you.

I will not be the person you use not to open up; the person who will build walls around you and enforce them. I am your loyal warrior, not your guard dog.

I value you too much to let you — to help you — hide your light behind a barricade.

B: Why? Do you wish to cause me pain, shame and anger?

A: I am your liberator, but there are some things I cannot liberate you from without you — and this is one of them. I cannot change you and even if I tried you would resent me.

If a change such as this is possible, it must come from you; all I can do is hold your hand, cheer you on and show you things about yourself you didn’t see before or know were there and were true. Most of all, I can find them with you — together.

A: …

B: What lies behind your pain, shame and anger is what you need to accept, express and process to enable your growth; to grow up and get on with your life; to move on to the next thing as you gain a glimpse of the infinite beauty and life-light you are. This glimpse will nourish you spiritually, but it won’t change the hardship of life we all live through — and we must do so as the condition for our existence as human beings.

When you are ready and willing, together we may venture to that place. We may sit in the pain, shame and anger you feel. We may do so for as long as you can manage without running away — long enough to let the truth come out, unadulterated and therefrom we will see what happens.

If it is too much, we will stop and try again another day.

B: I feel better already. I didn’t know you’d noticed all along, but did not press me.

All this time, I would feel as though you let me get away with treating you badly in those moments, because you were afraid. I begun to lose respect for you and then respect for myself. Finally, I felt as though you did not love me and that I was not lovable. I wanted you to press me.

I didn’t know you loved me so much that you wanted to spare me senseless torment, because I didn’t know what I saw doing.

I realise now that asking you to press me before I knew what was happening in me and in you, before I accepted the two of us as separate individuals, would change nothing. It would and lock us into an endless, stagnating cycle.

You waited for this conversation between us all along, didn’t you?

A: I waited for you to be ready to see me as your soulmate — your equal.