Step 1: Awareness — Seeing With the Heart Before You Move the Tongue
He sat across from me, calm as morning light. No rush. No urgency. Only presence.
“Today,” he said, “we begin with the first doorway.”
I leaned forward, expecting a technique, a formula, a checklist.
But he looked directly at my chest — not my face — and tapped gently on his own heart.
“Before wisdom shapes your words, it must first shape your sight.”
I frowned slightly. “Sight?”
“Yes,” he smiled. “Awareness is the art of seeing — the world outside you and the world inside you — before you act, speak, or feel entitled to judge.”
Awareness of the Situation — What is truly happening?
“Most conflicts,” he said, “are born not from what actually happened, but from how we imagined it.”
He picked up a small rope from the table and said, “In dim light, this looks like a snake. Your heart races, fear floods, and instincts hijack your dignity. But when the light comes, it is only a rope.”
He placed the rope down gently and said, “The emotion was real — the danger was a misperception.”
He looked into my eyes. “This is why you pause: to ask — What am I actually seeing? What is fact, and what is my story?”
He lifted one finger:
“Clarify instead of assuming. Did they really intend disrespect? Or am I reading old pain into a new moment?”
Another finger.
“Ask before you react. Did you mean this? Is this what you wanted to say?”
And another:
“Observe tone, context, timing. A hungry child, a tired spouse, a stressed colleague — they are not your enemies.”
He leaned back and said, “Often, people don’t hurt you. They simply leak their overwhelm.”
Awareness of the Self — What is happening inside me?
He placed a hand over his heart again and said, “Awareness also means noticing you.”
- “How do I feel right now?”
- “What thought is fueling this feeling?”
- “Am I seeing this moment clearly — or through the dust of my past?”
He raised his eyebrows:
“Are you irritated? Injured? Insecure? Tired? Hungry? Jealous? Proud?”
I shifted uncomfortably — too many familiar words there.
“Names,” he said softly, “give you power.”
An unnamed feeling becomes a master. A named feeling becomes a guest.
Then he added, almost whispering, “When emotions rise, intellect sinks. When awareness rises, emotions bow.”
One Inner Question That Reveals Everything
He leaned forward, voice lower, slower: “Would I respond the same way if someone else were standing here?”
I froze.
“If it were your mother instead of this colleague?
If it were your child instead of this stranger?
If they had spoken gently instead of sharply?”
He nodded at my silence.
“If your response changes when the person changes, your heart is reacting — not responding. That means,” he added, “they control your behavior. Not God. Not your principles. They do.”
He let the truth sit like a mirror between us.
Awareness is honesty before God
“Awareness,” he said, “is not intellectual. It is moral. It is standing inside your heart and saying to God:
‘I want to see the truth, even if it humbles me.’”
“Only then can faith enter your response.” He paused, and I felt the room deepen.
A Practical Exercise
He smiled gently. “Next time someone annoys you, before reacting, ask:”
- What exactly happened?
- What did I assume?
- What am I feeling?
- Would I behave the same if this were someone I love?
- Is my reaction driven by ego, fatigue, fear, or principle?
“And then,” he added, “breathe. Let God watch you choose.”
A Temporary Stopping Place
He exhaled softly, as if placing a bookmark in my soul. “This,” he said, “is only the first step. Awareness opens the eyes of the heart. But seeing clearly is not enough.”
I nodded slowly.
“We must now ask,” he continued, “Once I see clearly, how do I align with who I want to be — with God’s pleasure?”
He stood, signaling our session’s close.
“Tomorrow,” he said, “we talk about alignment — how the heart bows before the will does.”
I walked away quietly, the rope-snake image echoing in my mind, wondering how many illusions I had reacted to in my life.
(ٍRead Part 4)
