The Following is a Guest Post by Bruce Scott, Author of ‘Being Real -an ongoing decision’
STOP TALKING AND FEEL
I do believe I have yet to tell you what Michael did at Howard University in Washington, D.C. In 1999, I suggested to Michael that he attend this ten-day World Work conference. I borrowed money and found my way there. Along with 400 women, men and young children from around the world, many from warring countries, people of many colors, religions, with some there because unknown others paid for them to attend. I got to sit among them. Wealthy people, others with no money, just the clothes they wore.
Not only sit, but instinctively walk quietly outside around the perimeter of the roof, covering and protecting the gymnasium-size room inside. I paced the perimeter, as people inside released and expressed their frustration, anger, hostility, hurt and love.. I was aware that I was holding the space for others inside, to release and express what needed to come through and out. As I walked slowly on the perimeter, I noticed Michael directly across from me, maybe 200 feet away, walking at the same pace.. We did not speak. We knew.
Later, when inside, I listened and witnessed the anger, hurt and love freely come through. People waving their fists, screaming, yelling, crying, blaming. The only rule was no violence. No violence. It was difficult to hear of all the injustice, yet I was grateful I got to hear it and bare witness.
This went on for 10 days. Ten days. On the last day, amidst the rage and tears and non-violence, Michael my friend who had never done anything like this before, and who for nine days, quietly listened and felt, raised his 6′ 4″ black frame up, and in this huge hall filled with 400 others, walked intentionally and directly into the center of the room: “Stop talking and feel,” he screamed out. “Stop talking and feel.”
His words came from another dimension. A force in and beyond him. Instantly, the room went totally silent. A stunned silence. A minute later, all that could be heard was wailing, crying, sobbing, and silence of words. Michael simply stood in the center of the room, his own tears flowing. Four hundred children, women and men slowly moved towards the center. Sobbing, crying and relief led the way. No more words. Only hugging and the embracing of each other. Four hundred people, few having known each other hours earlier.
A healing had taken place.
A connection for everyone.
No more teaching or lectures or workshops. No more teaching, lectures or workshops.
Soon, Michael walked into the hall and sat down in a simple chair, alone, aware and unaware of what he had just brought.
I walked out and sat next to him quietly.
“I can’t believe it,” he said quietly as he looked down.
People from inside the room, came to him and
held him, thanked him and stood quietly.
Michael was back in his body, almost embarrassed at his impact.
Back in Santa Cruz, California, days later, Michael shared how his actions surprised him. He wondered if he could continue his life, holding that kind of influence in the world with others. .
He felt touched, yet the everyday world seemed so distant from what he had just experienced. He wondered if that action was enough and could be sustained.
It was as though there was or is a voice inside that says, “Is that enough? Can you sustain that awareness
and impact on others? Are you now done? Am i enough?” To me, he is and was the same Michael that dropped an atomic bomb of peace. Only once was required. Just once.