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.
