You see what a demand that is? You’re this human key, shaped a certain way, that must relate to the world through a particular shape. And nobody can do it but that individual, that key. Connecting to the senses gives you the cuts and shapes that enable you to mesh with the world. If you can remember this one, you’ll know why things are so inexplicable when you’re blank, why nothing happens when you’re not there. And how the world opens up when you are there.
One of the most amazing things revealed in the Gospels about Jesus—he’s a very interesting character—appears when he’s walking in Jerusalem amid a great crowd, a mob, really. In the middle of this mob Jesus says, “Somebody touched me!” The apostles reply, “Of course, we’re getting pushed and touched everywhere. What do you mean?” “I felt power leave me,” he says. He looks around, and an old woman comes forward and says she was the one who did it. And all she had done was touch the fringe of his garment, in hopes that she’d be healed of a hemorrhage she’d had for 20 years.
Imagine the sensitivity of someone being pushed around in rush hour and he knows when someone has touched the fringe of his garment? We think of Jesus as being “The Christ” and all that. But what we don’t realize is he was the key—totally connected to his senses, he picked up everything, he could feel when power was leaving him through his clothing.
That’s what you call a sensitive being, someone who has his wits about him. It’s no wonder he said astonishing things. He was there in each situation. Like when the priests presented him with the tribute coin with Caesar’s profile on it. They thought they’d spring a trap, and get him at last. But he had a brilliant answer. It’s not because he was a genius. It’s just that he kept his wits about him, all the time. That’s what the senses were known as—the five wits. You see the effect that man had when he turned the lock? Two thousand years of effect. This is a graphic example of how important it is to come to your senses.
When people talk, they get lost in what they’re saying. They get lost in what they’re thinking, too. The trick is that when you speak, don’t think about your ideas. Don’t get involved in your ideas. All you have to do is listen to the sound of your voice. The mind thinks by itself. What you have to say comes right out, provided you’re listening to the sound.
From my experience, I don’t have an idea in my head when I talk. I listen to what comes out. Sometimes it’s all right, sometimes not, but I just listen to what I have to say. So listen to yourself, and you’ll find sometimes that you’ll say something worthwhile. And you won’t get lost. You’ll always be interested. And what’s more, it will help you to listen to others, which is also a valuable human ability.
One of the reasons people go on lying to themselves and others is because they’re not listening to themselves. If they would, instead of being caught in their own web they’d hear the lies, because lies have a certain sound, just as the truth has a certain sound. But the sound of a lie as it rolls off the tongue is painful, it’s unbearable. That’s the way to get free of lies, to listen to the tone, and the sound that comes out. Then you’ll stop. You’ll be acutely aware of the difference between the truth and a lie. You’ll know when it’s coming and when it isn’t. So you’ll never be caught by Pontius Pilate’s cutesy question “What is truth?” Listen, and you’ll hear.