KNOW YOUR DESIRE

There are many ways to approach the power To Know. We study books. We studyourselves. We study the world. We take the time to assimilate our study and toallow the information to deepen into knowledge. Knowledge is the result oftaking in information and making it our own. Given enough time and a good doseof passionate engagement, knowledge can expand further, becoming wisdom. Thisrequires all of our powers of rationality, coupled with our growing ability toknow in the heart and in the belly. Engaging the power To Know is helped by theperspective of the eagle, the first part of the Sphinx.

When we speak of knowing our desire, however, we often need to begin from aplace that feels a lot like faith. Some clearly feel desire, even if they can'tpinpoint exactly what form it takes. Others have some vague longing just to havea desire. I'm here to tell you, that is also desire.

Desire connects us to ourselves and to the flow of life.

The magical dictum To Know has many facets and stages. Each person reading thesewords is likely at a different stage in his or her relationship with themanifestation of both knowledge and desire. Before coming to a place ofknowledge, we first need information, experience, and some level of integration.Knowledge does not, therefore, spring full blown from the mind. It requires acombination of intellect, emotion, and, on even deeper levels, the intuitionbrought forth from the body. We cannot think our way to desire, but our thoughtscan help us gather information, assess it, give it context, and name it. As wehave seen in fairy tales throughout time, naming is a powerful activity.

In this section, we will practice approaching knowledge through thought, sense,and emotion. We will bring it to our bodies. Through all these means, we shallseek to know.

LEARNING TO LISTEN; LISTENING TO LEARN

How can we open to knowledge of self and the power to know our desire? Bylearning to listen more deeply.

Most of our lives are crowded with the bustle of jobs, family, advertising,television, shopping, cleaning, and cooking, making it quite difficult to hearanything but the clamor. We are also riddled with a constant barrage of thoughtsand emotional states, sometimes brought about by our very wish to know what itis we are supposed to be doing! All of this makes deeper knowing feelimpossible. How can we hear the voice within that is deeper than our day-to-dayconcerns?

By listening.

By opening to listening, we open to the whispering of the sacred to our souls.We say to ourselves and to the cosmos: "I seek the power To Know, and in seekingthis knowledge, I begin here, within myself."

When I do soul readings for clients, I often say: "Take a breath. Let's go alayer deeper ..." This helps both of us to open again, to listen again, and to havegreater access to the information that wants to flow through. We start off bytuning in and listening. In the rush of vision and voice, however, we often needto pause and drop into an even more acute place of hearing, sensing, and seeing.

I'd like to do that with this topic now. Let's drop a layer deeper in examiningour relationship to listening. We'll go ever deeper, layer by layer, as thisbook and our practice progress, particularly in the segment "To Keep Silence,"but let us try for a bit here.

Why do we run so hard from listening? Listening is the best way to get clearinformation that can be digested into knowledge. Yet many of us still decide wedon't need to show up for this portion of our work. We would rather be busy, orpile on excuses, or numb ourselves—anything rather than slow down enough to takein what is really present. There are many reasons for this, of course. One isthat some of us fear what will be revealed if we drop deep enough for emotionalstates to rise. Others fear that they will have to change their systems of blameand responsibility. Still others fear that everything will fall apart if theystop taking care of everything for the time it takes to slow down and just bewith themselves. Take a few moments right now to breathe, find your center, andask yourself if any of the above scenarios, or any others, apply to yoursituation.

Here's a simple example from my own life. I used to finish other people'ssentences chronically. It has become a great practice of mine over many yearsnot to do so. I particularly like to practice with Tony, who has a severestutter. He comes into the soup kitchen where I volunteer, and it is great toslow down further inside and wait while he gets his words out. This sort ofpractice helps me learn more, and teaches me not to assume that I know what hemeans. It allows for greater discovery.

On the occasions when I do finish someone else's sentence, I'm drawn up for amoment by the realization that I've lapsed out of presence and into assumption.This happens sometimes with one of my partners—another highly verbal type.Intellectual exploration and even sparring are a big part of our relationship,but sometimes the mercurial nature of speech and thought gets in the way ofdeeper listening. Sometimes he finishes my sentences and I become annoyedbecause, no, that was not what I was going to say at all. Moreover, itinterrupts the flow and measure of my thoughts. Sometimes I do the same withhim. And then I attempt to return to my practice.

A companion to this practice of mine is to ask: "What do you mean?" Thisquestion advances inquiry, discovery, and learning. When I was young, I justassumed that I knew what someone else meant. My brain was so clever—of course Ihad it figured out! Or I felt embarrassed to let on that I might not know, so Ijust assumed that I knew enough. This meant that I was not able to learn as muchas I might otherwise have done. My unwillingness to ask questions meant that Iwas impeding my own growth and development.

Slowing down enough to listen or ask questions helps me to learn. It alsocreates space for a richer relationship with the world around me—with myself,with Nature, and with the humans with whom I interact. I listen to the Gods,too. Sometimes they have insights I never would have come up with on my own.This is true of the collective mind as well. Collectively, we remember things wemay have forgotten as individuals, or we may bring back nuggets of wisdom fromour trips to the river.

Some people have a problem opposite to my own: they ask too many questionsbecause they are forever second-guessing themselves. There is no trust thatrises from their bellies toward their hearts and...