Speaking with Awareness

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I’ve kept silent for well over a year, sharing very little. In fact, I’ve been quiet for many years now, perhaps since I discovered that I knew nothing, perhaps since I began questioning everything. Maybe because I wanted to stay in the present. Maybe because I had one foot in the past and another one in the future. Or maybe it was because I couldn’t make up my mind as to what I wanted to know—everything interests me.

There were times in which I had a sharing spree of a week or two and then went back to my usual stoic silence. The collective mind of the world has been filling up with numbing, redundant, self-serving, diluted opinions. Everybody is entitled to an opinion, of course. But not everybody practices awareness when sharing theirs. When dumbasses get a voice, more dumbasses are created. Yet, that’s not all entirely true. Sometimes, dumbasses need to be dumb to then become wise.

I didn’t want to be a dumbass in public, though. I wanted to be a dumbass in private. I also didn’t want to feel trapped in a single line of dialogue, nor did I want to speak ever so lightly as to become an echo of a generation. I wanted to speak from experience. I wanted to lead a life from a learned perspective, and more importantly, I wanted to speak from the heart whenever possible. Either way, I didn’t want to be one more to contribute recycled garbage to the digital storage of your screen and the gatekeeper to your mind. I was afraid of knowledge profanity, of the prostitution of thought, the abuse of self, and entering a space I didn’t earn.

I appreciate all the voices who contribute—and all the ones who don’t. I appreciate the ones in the process of discovering their own ideas. I urge caution, however. To try to speak with awareness, to never accept what one says because it’s cool, but also to not reject it just because it’s not yours.

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I've kept silent for well over a year, sharing very little. In fact, I've been quiet for many years now, perhaps since I discovered that I knew nothing, perhaps since I began questioning everything. Maybe because I wanted to stay in the present. Maybe because I had one foot in the past and another one in the future. Or maybe it was because I couldn't make up my mind as to what I wanted to know—everything interests me. [🇺🇸🇪🇸Read the entire post on my blog in English & Spanish | Link in bio] There were times in which I had a sharing spree of a week or two and then went back to my usual stoic silence. The collective mind of the world has been filling up with numbing, redundant, self-serving, diluted opinions. Everybody is entitled to an opinion, of course. But not everybody practices awareness when sharing theirs. When dumbasses get a voice, more dumbasses are created. Yet, that's not all entirely true. Sometimes, dumbasses need to be dumb to then become wise. I didn't want to be a dumbass in public, though. I wanted to be a dumbass in private. I also didn't want to feel trapped in a single line of dialogue, nor did I want to speak ever so lightly as to become an echo of a generation. I wanted to speak from experience. I wanted to lead a life from a learned perspective, and more importantly, I wanted to speak from the heart whenever possible. Either way, I didn't want to be one more to contribute recycled garbage to the digital storage of your screen and the gatekeeper to your mind. I was afraid of knowledge profanity, of the prostitution of thought, the abuse of self, and entering a space I didn't earn. I appreciate all the voices who contribute—and all the ones who don't. I appreciate the ones in the process of discovering their own ideas. I urge caution, however. To try to speak with awareness, to never accept what one says because it's cool, but also to not reject it just because it's not yours. That's not to say that I don't share my thoughts and opinions with the people I encounter on my day-to-day. Perhaps in a significant less measure, yes, as I dramatically reduced my interactions with people over the years. Lately…

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That’s not to say that I don’t share my thoughts and opinions with the people I encounter on my day-to-day. Perhaps in a significant less measure, yes, as I dramatically reduced my interactions with people over the years. Lately, I’ve rediscovered a few things, and I am coming out of exile to remind you a few things you already know:

First, the importance of listening with awareness.

When I switch off my internal dialogue and listen to others, I learn. I learn, as in, I earn. By listening, I gain—I win. Even if I disagree. I never learn anything new by regurgitating what I already know.

Second, if I am going to listen to others, I better surround myself with people who have interesting things to say.

There are so many cookie-cutter, unprocessed opinions out there. Learning to filter through them with kindness and compassion, without ego and with an analytical heart is challenging, but gets easier with practice.

Third, the world will continue to spit opinionated facts, half-truths, self-grandiose ramblings, and misinformations until the day we die.

Having the courage to think critically makes it bearable.

A few weeks ago, I did a chakra test and was told that my throat chakra was out of balance. Buddha, don’t I know it. In my exercise of practicing silence, in search of the ultimate truth, in keeping quiet, I feel as if I developed a lump in my throat. As I said, I wanted to speak from experience, to share from a learned place, to process every thought before it leaves my lips. But I understand now that I cannot stay silent until I have processed everything because new learnings continue to overflow me every day, and like a dumbass that blurts dumbass opinions, I’ve been storing unprocessed thought for far too long. In my silence, I became a dumbass anyway.

The other day, I sat in a public garden to read Coelho’s magnum opus. Jokingly, laughing at the cliche, I said that the punishment to my arrogance would be allowing The Alchemist to change my life.

Silence, at this moment, is like a cancer lodging in my throat—and I don’t want that anymore. Silence is not my path. Silence was the sheep in Andalusia. But not the oasis, Fatima, the Pyramids in Egypt—or what is yet to come.

Some people might draw a parallel to “speaking my truth.” I think that motto is a powerful one that it’s often misused, though. Many of us blurt out whatever we are thinking without a diligent analysis—We owe it to ourselves and to others to practice awareness in our dialogue. In whichever capacity we can within our education and experience, that is alright. An inexperienced opinion by an attentive mind can get farther than the one of an educated one created in an impetuous shout. Speaking your truth is not a license to spit words without awareness. Being aware of the implications, now I understand, doesn’t mean staying silent, either. In the balance between silence—silence to expand—and speaking out—speaking out with awareness, I find the compromise to be the key to remove this lump in my throat.

In the words of Vance Joy’s Riptide: “I love you when you’re singing that song, and I got a lump in my throat ’cause you’re gonna sing the words wrong.”

Well, screw it if I get the words wrong.
I know that the tune—the tune, I really get now.

Share your experiences and thoughts in the comment section below. (All the way down).


Un Nudo en Mi Garganta

Hablando con Conciencia

He guardado silencio durante más de un año, compartiendo muy poco. A decir verdad, he estado callado durante muchos años, quizás desde que descubrí que no sabía nada, quizás desde que comencé a cuestionarlo todo. Tal vez porque quería quedarme en el presente. Quizás porque tenía un pie en el pasado y otro en el futuro. O tal vez fue porque no podía decidir qué quiero saber, pues todo me interesa.

Hubo momentos en los que compartí por una o dos semanas y luego volví a mi silencio estoico habitual. La mente colectiva del mundo se ha estado llenando de opiniones entumecidas, redundantes, egoístas y diluidas. Por supuesto que todos tienen derecho a una opinión. Pero no todos comparten la suya con conciencia. Cuando los tontos obtienen una voz, se crean más tontos. Sin embargo, esto no es del todo cierto. A veces, los tontos necesitan ser tontos para luego volverse sabios. 

Yo no quería ser un idiota en público. Quería ser un idiota en privado. Tampoco quería sentirme atrapado en una sola línea de diálogo, ni quería hablar tan a la ligera como para convertirme en el eco de una generación. Quería hablar de la experiencia. Quería llevar una vida desde una perspectiva aprendida, y lo más importante, quería hablar desde el corazón siempre que fuera posible. De cualquier manera, no quería ser uno más del montón contribuyendo con la basura reciclada en el almacenamiento digital de tu pantalla qué hoy por hoy es el guardián de tu mente, o ¿no? Tenía miedo de la blasfemia del conocimiento, de la prostitución del pensamiento, el abuso de uno mismo y entrar en un espacio que no me gané.

Aprecio todas las voces que contribuyen, y todas las que no también. Aprecio los que están en el proceso de descubrir sus propias ideas. Sin embargo, insisto en tomar precauciones. Intentar hablar con conciencia es no aceptar lo que alguien dice porque está de moda, pero tampoco rechazarlo porque no estás de acuerdo.

Eso no quiere decir que no comparta mis pensamientos y opiniones con las personas que encuentro en mi día a día. Quizás en una medida significativamente menor, sí, ya que reduje drásticamente mis interacciones con las personas a lo largo de los años. Últimamente, he redescubierto algunas cosas, y estoy saliendo del exilio para recordarles algunas cosas que seguro ya saben:

Primero es la importancia de escuchar y escuchar con conciencia.

Cuando le bajó el volumen o mi diálogo interno y escucho a los demás, aprendo. Aprendo como que gano. Al escuchar, gano. Incluso si no estoy de acuerdo. Al regurgitar lo que ya sé no aprendo nada nuevo.

Segundo, si voy a escuchar a otros, mejor me rodeo de personas que tienen cosas interesantes que decir.

Hay tantas opiniones sin procesar, versiones copiadas uno del otro. Aprender a filtrar con amabilidad y compasión, sin ego y con un corazón analítico es un desafío, pero se vuelve más fácil con la práctica.

Tercero, el mundo continuará escupiendonos opiniones, medias verdades, divagaciones grandiosas y desinformaciones hasta el día de nuestra muerte.

Tener el coraje de pensar críticamente lo hace soportable.

Hace unas semanas me hicieron un examen de los chakras y me dijeron que mi chakra de la garganta estaba desequilibrado. Buda, si lo sé! En mi ejercicio de practicar el silencio, en busca de una verdad suprema, en silencio, siento que desarrollé un nudo en la garganta. Como dije, quería hablar de la experiencia, compartir desde un lugar aprendido, procesar cada pensamiento antes de que salga de mis labios. Pero ahora entiendo que no puedo permanecer en silencio hasta que haya procesado todo porque los nuevos aprendizajes continúan desbordándose de mi todos los días, y como un imbécil que dice opiniones tontas, he estado almacenando pensamientos no procesados durante demasiado tiempo. En mi silencio, me convertí en idiota de todos modos.

El otro día, mientras estaba sentado en un jardín público leyendo la obra maestra de Coelho, bromeando, riéndome del cliché, me dije a mi mismo que el castigo a mi arrogancia sería permitirme que El Alquimista me cambiara la vida. Mi silencio, en este momento, es como un cáncer alojado en mi garganta, y ya estuvo bueno. El silencio no es mi camino. El silencio era la oveja en Andalucía. Pero no el oasis, Fátima, las pirámides de Egipto, o lo que está por venir.

Algunas personas pueden establecer un paralelismo con el mantra de hoy en dia que es “decir mi verdad”. Creo que ese lema es poderoso y sin embargo a menudo mal usado. Muchos de nosotros soltamos lo que estamos pensando sin un análisis diligente. En cualquier capacidad que podamos dentro de nuestra educación y experiencia nos debemos a nosotros mismos y a los demás practicar un acto de conciencia en nuestro diálogo. Una opinión inexperta de una mente atenta puede llegar más lejos que la de una persona educada que da un grito impetuoso. Decir nuestra verdad no es una licencia para escupir palabras sin conciencia. Ser consciente de las implicaciones, ahora entiendo, tampoco significa permanecer en silencio. En el equilibrio entre el silencio—silencio para expandirse—y hablar—hablar con conciencia—encuentro que el compromiso es la clave para eliminar este nudo en mi garganta.

En las palabras de Vance Joy en su canción Riptide: “I love you when you’re singing that song, and I got a lump in my throat ’cause you’re gonna sing the words wrong.”

Bueno, joder, si me equivoco con las palabras, sabré que la melodía, la melodía, ahora realmente la entiendo.

Comparte tus experiencias y pensamientos en la sección de comentarios. Esta un poquito más abajo.