Feeling is my first language, English is my second.

I was in a conversation with a new friend yesterday, and I realised to connect and speak to what I really wanted to say and express, I had to slow down the pace of the conversation about ten fold.

I know sometimes people don’t know how to take this, but I like it – it lets me actually communicate not just let old mind-talk stream through my mouth like a repetitive tape recorder with amnesia.

In those times of outward silence, I listen..and let the listening show itself to me in words.

Sometimes these English words are like wide cross sections of the river, communicating soil, water, reeds, rocks and layers of water etc – and I may just want to communicate the temperature at one part of the depth.

So I search for more specific words, more specific articulation. How to paint feeling with the colour of my vocabulary. Sometimes it’s more aptly showed in movement as I have come to discover and express.

Its a art-form. Articulation.

I love both giving myself the freedom to go here (as I don’t always), and the magic that ensues when other people open themselves to follow me into this space. The conversation becomes 4 dimensional. Alive. Percolating with presence. Our skin, our bodies, our minds, all dance in a different space.

I also feel like I have to build a language, pathway… a route for people to enter into this space.

Sometimes people go here with me for the first time, and later comment they have never experienced anything like it. And I am enthralled by it – I wait for the side-chatter to stop so I can enter this space again.