What if it were about receiving ?

Life is something we receive.

Maybe we could strengthen our ability to do so.

Receive.

What if it was only about learning to receive, to be a presence that allows what is to simply be: to evolve, move, revolve, dance?

A few days ago, it was a friend’s birthday. I can’t explain how graceful she was in her way of receiving attention.

It struck me because, before that evening, I had always seen her as reserved: a shiny, soft presence that, in its quietness, never quite took up the space it could. I was used to seeing her as a woman who is undoubtedly strong, as her journey shows, but too focused on what is left to do or become, minimising her achievements.

But at her birthday, as she enthusiastically went to pick up the cake, brought it from the kitchen, and got herself ready to blow out the candles, she was stunning in how she received our attention.

It made me feel that each smiling face present, each of us, her guests, was so welcomed by her openness that we were allowed to be even more present.

That image—her shiny smile, even brighter with the reflection of the candles’ flame in her eyes—remained in me over the weekend and left me with a meaningful lesson.

How powerful it is to receive, and how the way in which we do so changes the value, the texture of what is received.

As I write, it sounds obvious. We have all experienced the difference between someone who says a sharp ‘thank you’ when receiving our gift, and someone who delights in unwrapping the gift with attention, observes it, takes time to discover it, maybe asking questions about what inspired our choice, to then finally open their arms and thank us with a hug.

I realise now I have underestimated how receiving happens all the time: receiving the sun, the view of the sky, receiving information, an answer to a question, and so much more.

Do we ever consciously acknowledge—and therefore receive—the service of the bus or train driver who is taking us from one point to another?

It also applies when receiving what might initially be considered negative: a rejection for a professional position, a medical diagnosis, our own mistakes.

Before deepening my thoughts on how to gracefully receive life’s downsides, I want to linger on this reflection: how do we receive goodness, flavour, abundance, and joy?

In other words: how do we receive life itself?

In French, we have a saying: ‘the hand that receives is always below the giving one’. Shall we then accept a kind of vulnerability, the reminder of how tiny we are in this universe, in order to better receive?

Would “receiving” require us to consider that what is given is safe? Good? Free of debts?

My eyes travel to my empty cup next to my computer. I just finished drinking my bedtime hot milk—a mixture of milk, honey, turmeric, clove, and cinnamon. Honestly, as I drank it, I did taste it; I was aware of its texture and temperature, but I’m not sure I can say I “received” it. Receiving is a pro-active action; it’s not passive.

From the corner of my eye, I can see the light of the candle lit on the table. It’s a subtle inner move, but right now, I just shifted from seeing it to receiving it. Same with the jazz music in the background; it feels as if it’s about activating a place in my chest, deepening my breath a little bit, and somehow, I feel the touch of gratefulness washing over me.