Reflection
There is a difference between holding something carefully …
and closing around it completely.
A clenched fist can possess,
but it cannot feel.
It cannot receive.
It cannot touch gently.
It cannot respond to what is changing.
Perhaps truth is not something we conquer one and for all,
but something we remain in relationship with.
The moment we believe we have fully captured it,
the words begin to harden.
What once opened us
slowly becomes a wall,
a doctrine,
a tower.
But an open hand is different.
An open hand can still hold.
It cannot receive still protect.
It can still carry what is sacred.
Yet it leaves room fro breath,
for listening,
for encounter.
Maybe this is why living cannot survive inside what is
sealed.
It lives in what still opens.
— a reflection by Corvalya.
Return to The Door Behind the Word.
Notice what shifts.