"…perhaps a world/ that is quietly sensed/ across the air/ in another's heart/ becomes the inner companion/ to one's own unknown." – John O'Donohue

   So often, I wonder what it is that sensitive souls seek when they turn to read a meditation. Peace, inspiration, and refreshment are the usual answers. But of these, peace is the most elusive.

   What I love is that you have come here with some hope for renewal. Together, we seek an inner companionship with our own serenity, riffling through recollections of other encounters. 

   "There are many things/ we could have said,/ but our words never wanted/ to name them;…" O'Donohue wrote ahead of the lines quoted above. 

   This past weekend I attended a high school reunion. As is often true, friends not seen in decades materialize with features altered by the arc of long life.

   Who are these companions today, the ones I have fixed in my mind's eye as seventeen or eighteen-year olds? I asked myself.

   We formed bonds as teenagers. Now, at grandparent age, we talk with each other like archeologists discussing an ancient civilization.

   Stories seek to recreate the giddiness of high school when our futures lay hidden. Now, we know how our lives have unfolded. We even know the names of classmates who have fallen along the way.

   We share an inner companionship wrought from shared experiences. Now, we look at each other knowing it is impossible to live together as we did back then. Our particular relationships are grounded in the past, not the present. 

   I know we each were thinking things "we could have said" but couldn't or wouldn't name. 

   What sweet energy can pass unnamed between you and me? Words are never adequate for the most meaningful experiences we have with each other.

   How can I describe my heart when I sense your soul engaging mine – whether sitting by your side or writing across great physical distance? What words can be appended to the relief I feel when you ease my loneliness with an affirming comment, an expression of kindness, a reaching out in a way that "is quietly sensed across the air in another's heart."

   Strange how strangers may become inner companions. I can never meet the late John O'Donohue, but he has brought me more strength and inspiration than I can describe.

   Long gone from this earth is Emily Dickinson.  She and I have been intimate companions since I discovered her in that high school I attended so long ago. 

   Odd how I will never meet so many of you. Yet, by sharing words our "inner companions" have sensed kindred spirits, and greeted each other with Love. 

   Perhaps, this is what is most precious in our lives: to hear and be heard, to love and be loved, to touch when we can, to quietly sense each other within each day.

-Erie Chapman