It’s “elephant in the room” time again.  Sure, I could write about this morning’s music theory lesson, and I could have made it interesting for you.  But something is happening to my mind.

I decided this morning that I wouldn’t tell anyone.  Strangely I have re-decided.  I’m afraid.  Because I think …

Nobody will understand

People will think I’m weird

And stay away

Ahh … but the truth wins.

About a year ago the words “I love you” kept entering my head, usually not directed towards any certain person.  Occasionally, when the words fell on someone’s face, my “I love you” thought came into view but I couldn’t get past the “I” in my silent speaking.  I couldn’t think the rest of it.

Very strange.  “What’s going on?”

***

For the last week, this experience has been with me for much of the day.  I look at someone (actually anyone) and start saying the words.  A tiny “I” and that’s it.  The universe is here.  A grand love is here.  And mostly I’ve never seen these people before.  I even changed the sentence to “Nice to see you” and all that came in thought was “Ni …”.

When I have a purpose as I talk to someone, there is no immensity. At the Hema cafeteria this morning, I asked an employee for some yogurt with mango and strawberries. There was no giant pause, no being overwhelmed by something so unknown.

When my music theory teacher was explaining something in Dutch and I wasn’t understanding anything, the flow of connection returned. I also felt it (without turning around) when a student behind me asked a question. The words were lost on me but there was melody in her voice.

Now I’m alone in the laundromat, watching my clothes spin around. Any sentence that comes into my head is easily expressed internally.

Now I hear a voice singing at the far end of the room. She is shielded from my eyes by a wall. My silent words evaporate once more.

I’m not interested in figuring this out. Who cares if some profound psychological principle is at work? What I’m experiencing is here. It could retreat in the next moment and never return. Or it could be with me for the rest of my life.