On gray days, I can feel the watcher. The rain falls intermittently or sometimes torrentially, and the watcher is there. The birds are silent and hiding from the weather; the animals as well. The insects shelter under leaves. Nothing moves very much. Even these two ducks, one with her head below and the other above, glide furtively and silently as they seek shelter and protection.
I’m all alone, and that’s when I can feel the watcher the most. I call it “the silent witness” because it stands back and watches without ever making a comment. It is not the judge in my head. You know of the judge? The one who tells you that you have done right or wrong? The silent witness is not the judge. And it’s not the parent in my head. Surely you know of the parent? The one who berates you for not working hard enough and occasionally praises you (very occasionally) for a job well done? The silent witness is not the parent. In fact, it’s none of those parts of us that we have “conversations” or “arguments” in our heads with, those parts that guide or misguide, that tempt or protect.
The Silent Witness is the one who stands apart, the one who watches it all. The silent witness offers no opinion and takes no sides. It merely watches and stores events in the Akashic Halls. Ordinarily, we are too busy to notice it. But on these days when the mists fall and the veils between the worlds grow thin, sometimes we can feel the silent witness watching us. It is an extraordinarily odd feeling to witness the witness, the one who momentarily becomes aware of itself.