Brian Wilcox. 'Yellow Bearded Iris'
when meeting someone
thinking, "I've never met her, but somehow know her"
you do, you're remembering
* * *
I looked at the message, made quickly, and thought I had miswritten. The note read, regarding a patient and to another chaplain - "she is dear soul."
I thought how usually I would properly write "... a dear soul." Musing on it, I got it right. I recalled how my work had addressed this important matter: we are not individual souls - individuality has to do with personality -, we are all and together one soul. So, yes, she is dear soul, and so are you and you and you, and everyone.
* * *
Have you met someone and felt something that seemed odd, subtly so, about him or her, yet profound and attractive? The attraction was not about his or her appearance. You could not comprehend what you sensed, but it was, though unspeakable and unthinkable, pleasant. Maybe you felt disquiet, due to its ineffability and power. The power was not akin to what is usually meant by the word power.
Your mind could not name what you knew to be somehow associated with the other. It searched for words to frame this moment that seemed to linger between time and timelessness.
This something was as real as real could be, possibly more so for being so incomprehensible. The power of this realness left a lasting impression on you. You can still recall the strangeness of the encounter below the surfaces of your two appearances; you can see the person and moment vividly.
And you are left unanswered questions. What was it? What happened?