There are times when words fail me and the body steps in.

I'm sure it happens more than I know. As a mother, my facial expressions, hand gestures, or the way I walk potentially signal something to my family. These are actions that I don't always think about, let alone know what they are projecting onto me.

On the other hand, I totally stepped over a line when I literally put my hand over a fellow meditator's mouth as she kept talking and my other hand on her back after a meditation session.

I vaguely remember saying something about I love you, I am sorry, but I can't stand it anymore. My experience was at once painful, sorrowful, tender, and blinding.

Let's just say this was not skillful communication.

I was growing increasingly overwhelmed by a growing inability of people in this familiar group to practice what we were learning through meditation. They were talking about their own anxieties, problems, and the political divide. The 10th anniversary of 9-11 probably jacked everyone up with its missed opportunities or it could have been the failures of our leaders in an economy where our families are struggling. So many things were stirring in that room.

All this angst and division. I found it hard to sit with and let it arise and fall. But, I was trying.

Yet, it was our self-righteousness about shared political values that was disturbing me. We kept trying to make our point no matter if another was talking or to keep it going by recycling back to our usual points.

We had just finished our meditation practice with the idea that we bring that experience into our everyday lives. We were demonstrating our state of mind externally. The group mind was looking a little unsteady.

As I apologized to the person and the group for this outrageous breach of trust, I was asked to speak about this division. Basically, I said that I had no words at the moment except that at a recent Buddhist retreat on diversity, the experience of silence illuminated the value of living in the space beyond words, beyond the stories, and beyond our ideas of self.

A website about polarizing speech offers a history of the manipulation and misuse of words for ill. The following webpage offers the blogger's own story as to how she has came to understand Germany's path into darkness in the last century.

http://0320be2.netsolhost.com/blog1/?page_id=2 (Cut and paste web address into browser to read.)

My experience of the event was an attempt to lovingly and gently quiet my friend. While it wasn't a good feeling to break through the noise in this way, my hope is that we speak lovingly and carefully with each other to the best of our ability.

Afterwards, I wondered if this was more like taking a sword and cutting through the crap. It felt horrible. My friend is still unhappy with me. Things are not perfect. There was a rupture that needs attending to.

Perhaps, at that moment, my actions were the most compassionate thing I could do for my friend, the group, and my self. Because of a sense of responsibility to the group and past tendencies, I resisted walking out.

More importantly, it erased any illusion that somehow by meditating I am better than who I really am. It got me out of my head and into the world - warts and all.