There is a significant difference between communicating from a position which is lodged in the thinking process, in the head and speaking from the heart. When the voice is arising from the heart, the words take on a tone or a quality which can be felt. When the content is also in coordination with that tone, there is a chance for an exceptionally transformative communication to occur.
Allow the attention to be with the heart. The heart and area around the heart is a membrane. It is a perceptual organ. We can see through the heart. We can take in phenomena through the heart. But the heart, as I am describing it here, is not limited to the visible dimension of the body, but rather extends around and out from the body. Experiences can be had at other levels than the gross physical level.
We can see how people can become fiercely entangled in a relationship problem as a result of an exchange which is only the passage of information. The information which is transferred during non-frontal communication is so limited that it only symbolizes the most scattered pieces of what is.
When we attempt to hold onto information as reality, as truth, we end up clinging to the past. It is over already. Whereas, when our communication is coming from the frontal membrane, from the heart and our sense of identity to some degree is lodged in this radiant space, then the communication has as its primary emphasis the felt sense of someone else. Information then is secondary.
It is certainly possible to hear someone out, to get their take on reality and to feel that person and to love them. It is possible, as well, to hear that same information and to feel left out because it conflicts with our own information. Only that which transcends bits of information can give rise to love and relationship.
The analogy of the human being as computer is endlessly faulty. It is a total misunderstanding. It is true that the way we currently use the mind is similar in some way to a computer because we fill a container with information and churn it out in various forms. Ultimately, this body is not like a computer because it has so many dimensions which do not function according to the dictates of information. The body has a feeling tone which does not relate to informational knowledge.
There are waves between us. Waves of energetic embrace pass from body to body. These waves have substance. They can be consciously shared. They can be taken in and given out, played with and transformed. This is what begins to distinguish us from a computer. No computer will ever be able to replicate the frontal membrane.
The computer analogy arises because we are out of touch with this membrane. Many of us have actually worked hard to close the membrane down because it is perceived as a threat to the computerized mind. Too much mystery makes the mind ill at ease. We keep this membrane half-closed and then find ourselves stuck in the information chain even though it is filled with misunderstanding.
Our work here is to reinvigorate, heal, stimulate and open the frontal membrane through the use of the attention. We allow the attention to be with the front of the body and we allow our attention to be with each other through that membrane. Conscious breathing is vital to our process because it reflects another opening and another closing which is happening at a subtler level of physical existence.
We must recognize that we have been wounded. But the term wounded has been often used in an abstract or mystical context. Those who use the term in the context of various self-help programs can’t necessarily speak of where that wound is. The wound is not in the mind. When the phrases “wounded child” is used, very rarely, is it suggested that this wound exists on the physical plane.
The wound is not psychological. Psychology takes place in an arena which is mostly fantasy. It doesn’t really exist. Psychology explores conditioned mind frames. The wounding of the human being is in and around the body. The deep wounding which we associate with dilemma and trauma is in a very subtle area of the body, both at the physical level and at a level which is actually outside the frame.
The subtle body, the radiant body can be wounded and its relationship to the physical body can be disrupted, out of harmony. Our breathing and our attention is the beginning of a process in which we restore a harmonic relationship between the visible body and its subtle, outwardly extending radiance. The attention allows us to heal the filaments and circuitry in that radiance which has been crushed by the way we have been taught to use the body.
If we are to sit with someone else as a friend or a client, the primary process always involves allowing the attention to be with that person through the front of the body and not through the head. In doing this, we can discover that instead of trying to get somewhere, to fulfill a goal, the experience of communion is enough in and of itself. Nothing mental needs to be invented in order explain or address anything at all.
The ability to turn the attention through the body to another is not foreign. It is not unnatural. It is only sometimes difficult to achieve because the habitual force of having the attention somewhere else is so ingrained. It may be difficult to achieve also because before we can actually enter into frontal relationship we must have a frontal encounter with our own wound.
If we have practiced enough so that our mental dilemmas, our self-contracted turmoil can be lifted for periods of time, then even through our own wound we can enter into someone else’s space and be of assistance to them and to ourselves. True communication is all mutuality. It is an entry into ecological consciousness. Something is given, but something is received as well. There is no difference.
Copyright 1993: Estate of Stephen Robbins Schwartz