#Raise The Volume: An-other's MindPosted on: < Back
(an experience of a therapeutic relationship)
We sit, once a week, angled slightly away from each other
We are three feet apart, yet between us swashes a sea-swirled ravine
My jagged-edged island and yours, by nature, admit shores beyond infinity
So we stare, not at each other, but silently into the murky depths below, unseen
You tirelessly explore the motion of the tides between us
But so great is felt the gulf of Being between ‘you’ and ‘me’;
A weight of difference that hangs in the void before us
That I struggle to find a ledge upon which sits comfortably ‘we’
We are, inside, landlocked by the voices that haunt my remote, forested island
You may throw rope that scrapes the edge of the rocky verge
And everything within me wants to grasp it with trembling hands
But I am terrified that if I do, we will unleash what cannot yet emerge
My island is a place of withering solitude that wilts in defiance
Against any attempt to explore it and find what hides there, deeply unknown
The albatross circles it day and night, year after year
And I welcome it, fully deserved, as I stand, rightfully, truly alone
But on the cusp of my island’s cliff-face, I see the outline that you choose to show
I trust you as much as my mind wills, so I mostly believe its truth
I watch the ghostly, shadowy scenes of what you have already told me
And see in my mind’s eye moving silhouettes that dance the untold truth
We must build a bridge – I know – from one pillar of safety to another
But each board of wood I tenuously place over the tumultuous waves
Is only for you to walk across; because your island is mist-shrouded
In the fullness of what this relationship fully craves:
A longing to know your island like you will come to know mine
I know that your island is not for me to wander, but I wonder
How it feels to be you, standing on the chiselled point of your landmass
Trying to reach the drifting boundary that renders us asunder
I am an island infested with jealously that mauls man’s empathic embryos
I know you explore other tides and perhaps with them bridges are easily erected
But does that make their islands more interesting to you?
Are those bridges successes that call me out as failed because I so often rejected?
‘We’ are always actually building; but just the planks that are yet to be laid
I search myself for the cause of my infuriatingly prolonged progress
But my island boasts no mirrors, so I cannot see ‘me’ as I am, so apart from ‘you’
And sometimes I’m just scared and I know I start to regress, undoing progress
I cannot comprehend that to each we are an other’s mind
Openly acknowledged but it makes me doubt the solidity of this wood
What if I cannot reach you, and you bypass me?
What if I say what I need and I’m not understood?
I fear the canyon between us more than anything in my world
I am so very afraid of the churning waters that lash the rocks below
Deep breaths before I enter that room, unsure of how close to the cliff we will edge
But you see it too, and we go slow slow, slow
I may be afraid and retreat at times, but this quest cradles my life
Sometimes more, rarely less, and always three feet away
You throw me ropes and build planks at a distance; from your island to mine
So I close my eyes and touch the rope and trust that you will stay.
No matter how far I stray.
Written by Anon. Thank you for allowing us to share this beautiful piece of work.