He and I exchange very few words. He, even less than I. Yet, there is no doubt about the love between us. Yesterday when I came up to his floor, I found him alone and sitting at an empty table. "Dr. Bob, Dr. Bob", I whispered. He kept his head down, for a while. I waited, kneeling down by his side.
Body being breathed, I honed in on the rhythm, and watched mind empty itself of expectations. There was space, lots of it.
Dr. Bob lifted his head up, and turned towards me. "Dr. Bob, it's me, Marguerite." His eyes and mine locked. I let him know "I am happy to see you", and smiled. Dr. Bob smiled back and let out a raspy "Yes." He motioned to grab my hand and squeezed it with much feeling.
Being with Dr. Bob reminds me of the times when I have been on silent retreats, and of the close bonds formed with other fellow retreatants, most of them strangers, without even exchanging a word.
We should all be more like Dr. Bob. Less talking, more heart.
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