Language Of The Heart

The day after I returned from the monastery, I went out to dinner with a woman, ate filet steak, and talked language of the heart.  I am so attracted to honesty.  At the monastery, I don't get language of the heart, with a woman, and filet.  Honesty, non-editing of what you say, is so sacred to me, that it seems to naturally call forth quiet listening.  I found myself fascinated to sit there, belly full, listening to her talk.  It is the presence of God when a couple gets into this space, the language of the heart.  So many relationships are edited.  We all seem to decide what we will reveal and what we will hold to ourself.  We fear someone will tell on us, or reject us, or judge us.  I never reject anyone who offers me filet.  I am a bad monk, since monks do not eat meat at the monastery.  But I can be a good listener.  At times, people come to me to ask what they should do about something.  But they edit self-disclosure. It is frustrating.  Honesty from another person is a gift.  That evening I received the gift.  On the other hand, my life is dull and uninteresting and my friend did not eat filet.  So I was blessed while she might have gone home and said, "Good Grief!"