Jiddu:- Significance of Sharing, Being in Communion with Another

Article

Rohit Kaliyar posted

on September 21 at 12:40 PM

Jiddu:- Significance of Sharing, Being in Communion with Another

Philosophical and Psychological FoundationsRelationships and BondsCommunication and Expression Emotion, Cognition and BehaviourSelf-Realisation and Growth Conscious TransformationReflections and Experiences

You know that word sharing has an extraordinary significance. We may share money, clothes. If we have a little food, we may give it, share it with another; but beyond that we hardly share anything with another. Sharing implies not only a verbal communication—which is the understanding of the significance of words and their nature—but also communion. And to commune is one of the most difficult things in life. Perhaps we are fairly good at communicating something which we have or which we want or which we hope to have, but to commune with one another is a most difficult thing.

Because to commune implies, does it not, that both the person who is speaking and the one who is listening must have an intensity, a fury, and that there must be at the same level, at the same time, a state of mind that is neither accepting nor rejecting but actively listening. Then only is there a possibility of communion, of being in communion with something. To be in communion with nature is comparatively easy. And you can be in communion with something when there is no barrier—verbal, intellectual—between you, the observer, and the thing that is observed. But there is a state, perhaps, of affection, a state of intensity, so that both meet at the same level, at the same time, with the same intensity. Otherwise communication is not possible—especially communion which is actually the sharing. And this act of communion is really quite remarkable because it is that communion, that state of intensity, that really transforms one’s whole state of mind.

After all, love—if I may use that word without giving to it any particular significance now—is only possible when there is the act of sharing. And that is only possible, again, when there is this peculiar quality of intensity, nonverbal communication, at the same level and at the same time. Otherwise it is not love. Otherwise it becomes mere emotionalism and sentimentalism, which is absolutely worthless.

Our everyday life—not the supreme moment of a second, but everyday life—is this act of imparting, listening, and understanding. And for most of us, listening is one of the most difficult things to do. It is a great art, far greater than any other art. We hardly ever listen because most of us are so occupied with our own problems, with our own ideas, opinions—the everlasting chattering of one’s own inadequacies, fancies, myths, and ambitions. One hardly ever pays attention, not only to what another says, but to the birds, to the sunset, to the reflection on the water. One hardly ever sees or listens. And if one knows how to listen—which demands an astonishing energy—then in that act of listening there is complete communion; the words, the significance of words, and the construction of words have very little meaning. So, you and the speaker have completely to share in the truth or in the falseness of what is being said. For most of us, it is a very difficult act to listen; but it is only in listening that one learns.

Jiddu