Impulse
This text was born gently, at the crossroads of therapeutic listening and the impulse to write. It sketches the contours of a presence that welcomes without pressing, that accompanies without directing. A weaving of silences, of subtle gestures, of inner worlds seeking expression. Written in two languages, it is a way of breathing between the lines, of allowing what takes shape to emerge.
Je crois qu’il y a en chacune, en chacun, des mondes qui cherchent à se dire.
I believe that within each of us, there are worlds waiting to be spoken.
Pas toujours par les mots. Pas toujours tout de suite.
Not always through words. Not always right away.
Je crois aux silences qui préparent, à ceux qui soutiennent.
I believe in the silences that prepare, and those that hold.
Aux gestes minuscules qui racontent.
In the smallest gestures that tell stories.
Aux tensions fertiles entre le dedans et le dehors.
In the fertile tension between inside and out.
À la présence qui écoute, sans enfermer.
In the presence that listens, yet does not clutch.
J’accueille ce qui vient. Sans forcer. Sans figer.
I welcome what comes, without forcing, without freezing.
Nous nous accordons à ce qui est là : le corps, le souffle, ce qui s’anime au-dedans.
We attune to what is here: the body, the breath, what stirs within.
Sans chercher à corriger.
Not trying to fix.
Juste accompagner ce qui prend forme.
Simply holding space for what takes shape.
Chaque être est une matière sensible.
Each being is a sensing form.
Et parfois…
And sometimes...
Il y matière à dire.
There is form longing for words.
