“If you are very very quiet you can hear the clouds rub against the sky.”
We tend to associate intimacy with closeness and closeness with a certain sum of shared experiences. Yet in reality total strangers, who will never say a single word to each other, can share an intimacy — an intimacy contained in the exchange of a glance, a nod of the head, a smile, a shrug of a shoulder. A closeness that lasts for minutes or for the duration of a song that is being listened to together. An agreement about life. An agreement without clauses. A conclusion spontaneously shared between the untold stories gathered around the song.
— John Berger, Some Notes on Song
John Berger an English art critic, novelist, painter and poet. (born November 5, 1926, London, England—died January 2, 2017, Antony, France)
Visualize yourself in a lift full of strangers.
Now imagine that the lift stops moving, and we are all stuck. A moment earlier, we would not have acknowledged or cared about these people, or even said hello. But now, we are here together, with nowhere to go, and where no busy schedules can distract us.
Suddenly, these people, once strangers, now become our allies, and we are bound together, in this shared intimacy.
It’s amazing what can change in a instant.
So lets stop, every now and then.
Listen, and look up.
Share a moment,
You may be surprised what unfolds.