Knowing another is like hearing music. My experience of both is unique.
I think of a simple tune and imagine myself with a friend as we listen. The same air moves towards us, the same rhythm, pitch and tone, and yet, as soon as sound enters our bodies, we feel differently. What makes my body move, what moves me is my own, the sum of all those things I am and know. The same is true for my friend. I love music, I love friendship, and I know good people by their love.
As I listen, I hear her words, and then in no more than a minute, she says these same words once more, and then, again. For her, the words are fresh, a question she seeks the answer to. I answer, she listens, she is comforted. We move to something else and soon, a minute more, she returns to ask again. I answer, as if for the very first time. I feel, I am moved each time she asks. She asks once more.
Those things most often said reveal our greatest need. It is the same for me as her.
I wake to see Venus and the Moon above the eastern horizon, at first against the deep dark blue of night, then little by little, their light together, steadily concealed by the dawn. As daylight approaches only the finest crescent is visible, then suddenly their reach is out of sight.
I have loved looking up at the night sky all my life, and yet still, I so easily forget its beauty once the day begins. My knowing never quite matches the experience of my seeing.