A lovely code of honour

No junk

The sign said above the mailbox

And I thought

What a lovely code of honour

That the person delivering junk

Should decide, nay, I shall avoid this hole

For the are some words scribbled above it

And I must respect them

We rely on unspoken codes it seems

Stop at the red light

Don’t spit

Don’t cheat

Don’t steal

Don’t murder

Hmm

Maybe they’re not that unspoken

They seem to have been spoken into us since birth

And imposed with a threat of punishment

Temporary exile

Sometimes permanent termination

So it’s no wonder we look around us for direction

Waiting for someone else to say something

Waiting in a queue

Waiting for permission

I noticed in myself how I would wait for a cue

To smile at someone

To approach someone

To speak up

Always sensing around me

Conforming

Checking for safety

I saw it (and more importantly, felt it) in choir

Where you sing in one of four parts

And when I started

I would tune into my fellow part members

Tuning out all others so I would not be distracted

But with time I realised that something didn’t feel right

I was always uncertain

Always adjusting

And as I grew more confident

Others would lean on me

And so when I leant on them

We all wobbled

So I’ve been learning to trust myself

A conviction that I know my part

Quite literally staying centered in my frequency

And allowing others to meet me there

And in that place of quiet embodiment

I could open my awareness

Hear all of the parts

And sing harmoniously

Indeed noticing that we all became one

Like a school of fish

Or a flock of birds

With a little guidance

From the front

To give us freedom within