Nothing to Say, Only to Love

I’m weird.

Old English wyrd ‘destiny’, of Germanic origin. The adjective (late Middle English) originally meant ‘having the power to control destiny’, and was used especially in the Weird Sisters, originally referring to the Fates, later the witches in Shakespeare's Macbeth ; the latter use gave rise to the sense ‘unearthly’ (early 19th century).

Maybe it’s weird to be silent so much. I honestly don’t know how much effect it’s having on my healing, but it certainly causes me to observe in a whole new way.

My parents have been frustrated with my scribbles and text-to-speech apps to communicate. I observe how much they NEED to communicate, have a conversation, rather than simply be. I observe their struggle to find other ways to communicate, to listen with more than ears.

My favorite book is “The Little Prince.” It illustrates that grown ups simply don’t understand the truth of life for they have become distracted with all that needs to happen and all that needs to be earned and all those worrisome troubles that come about to “survive.”

But what if we thrive?

Sunday, my sister visited with her children. My niece and nephew are six year old twins.

I’ll admit, when she surprised us with this impromptu visit, I didn’t know if I would be able to stay silent. It’s funny. I didn’t feel to break my silence for my parents in their struggle to communicate with me, nor obliged to for my sister, but for my niece and nephew, I actually felt intimidated. I didn’t want them to think I was weird.

Of all people in this world, their opinion mattered most.

When they arrived, grandma (my mom) explained to them that Aunt Kendra wasn’t talking. She went on and on, but it was clear they didn’t care about her explanation. They wrapped their vital six year old bodies around mine like I was their best friend, like I’d never left and also with all the joy of getting to see me again after having missed me for so long.

Within those hugs was everything I needed to know. They didn’t need words to feel me, to know me, and to love me.

I mean, they’re six. So, even though they’re very good verbal communicators and can even read and write, they’re still close to the time in their life where words didn’t exist. This is my hypothesis, of course, but it seems to track that they are closer to knowing a kind of communication that most of us have long forgotten.

They understood me nearly perfectly. They did have questions at times, but they were always easy to answer and sometimes they would answer before I could gesture, a kind of telepathy.

In addition to the loving presence and ease of communication I had yet to experience in my times of silence, I discovered that weird is exactly what is wonderful.

They loved the Saraswati and Ganesha statues I gave them. They held reverence for them without me having to tell them who they are, and I wanted to tell them so much more, but I didn’t have to.

Then, I decided to do something crazy.

Oh, did I mention that my sister and father taught them to call me Crazy Aunt Kendra? Maybe it was a crude joke at first, but the way my niece and nephew say it, it feels like a royal title.

I grabbed my bluetooth speaker and pulled out a playlist of music meant to activate the chakras.

At first, my nephew was hesitant. My niece jumped right into dancing with me. We were all over the living room floor while my parents and sister could only watch as their daughter and sister moved into a state of childlike expression, fully free, more free than the two children she was trying to coax into dancing with her. In my open hearted state, it didn’t take long. They were in on it by the end of the first song.

We kept dancing as the songs changed. I couldn’t believe their sensitivity. As the root chakra song started, they both immediately dropped to the ground, connecting to their root. The next song was the sacral chakra with serpentine energy. Before the hissing even began, my niece was moving around like a snake. They are so finely attuned!

I could sense that the “adults” were annoyed at our levity, not even able to enjoy the show, trying to focus on the television behind us, so I opened the door to the next room and invited these two brilliant beings to come with me. We exited the world of responsibility and worry for the true realm of love, and I was the queen of this realm.

I play with cards. I dance in circles. I create. I have fun, and this is actually how I like to be as an adult. This, for me, is living. Adults have it all backwards. Children understand.

I took them into my room as the dancing evolved and devolved and our imaginations created new fun. When they walked into my room, I caught myself entering the adult world of control and became fearful that they would disturb my altar.

It was the first thing they noticed in my room, but they didn’t touch it… except the shaker. My nephew really wanted to play the shaker, so I handed it to him. Because I had put so much love and attention into my sacred altar, they gave it love and respect.

For sure, they jumped all over my very bouncy bed, and rightfully so because it’s delightful, but what was truly sacred to me, they reverenced. Their love was clear in their respect for me. I didn’t have to say anything. They simply felt me and because they love me, they showed me and the things I care about the deepest respect.

They took over my laptop, becoming the DJs, but if I didn’t like a song, they were so happy to change it. They were silly and teasing and funny and honest. Oh, so honest. I loved their honesty, nothing unmentionable. Nothing left unsaid. On top of that, they were proud to tell me that they watched my videos on YouTube. They adore me with an adoration that’s so truly pure, that we all deeply crave, and I have it and I didn’t even realize it.

We also went for a walk where we pet horses. I watched at their delight, excitement, and a little bit of fear. Here too, they followed my lead. They listened to my energy and the energy of the majestic creatures in front of them.

When we returned, I had a moment where I needed to message a friend and I went into my room by myself.

They grabbed a dry erase board and slipped it under my door, “Can we come in?”

I wrote back, “Not yet.”

They wrote, “Ok, but can we?”

“Yes. In a few minutes.”

“We’ll be right here.”

When I opened the door, I was so shocked that they weren’t there, being true to their word. My mom walked in and I gestured, “Where are the kids?”

Then they popped out from behind a piece of furniture, true to their word, and with the playful pizazz only souls of pure, expressive freedom could possess.

When it was time for me to leave, they were so sad to see me go. I was sad to leave them. I wanted to take them with me, but it wasn’t in the cards for that day. It will be far too long before I see them again, even if that’s tomorrow.

Children are so close to the truth of the matter, that “One sees clearly only with the heart. What is essential is invisible to the eye,” and inaudible to the ear as well, apparently (Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince).

These two, purely loving beings pierced my core with the truth of valuable lessons we all know, but rarely experience. They showed me that I am loved, and I am valuable even without my voice. They showed me that who I AM is intriguing, exciting, and inviting. Being my fully weird self is something to be admired. They showed me that value is so much more than what a person says, but rather who they are. They showed me that when someone loves with their whole heart, you feel their reverence, their respect, and it’s so easy to play, to communicate even when we don’t agree. Children hold the secrets of the heart. They are truly the most wise beyond their “years.”

This was my favorite day of 2024 so far, and I have a feeling it will be hard to top it. To know love like this, so pure, is a gift we all seek and I am grateful my heart was open enough to receive it.

It is easy for me to receive.