I gape*on a regular basis.
If I am lucky, that is.
It is not easy to give over to slack jawed amazement.
I arm myself with a rigidly clamped jaw.
My mouth is a set of muscles rigged to tell the same anecdotes over and over to police what comes in and out.
It is when I gape, though, that the passage is eased. The flow of words tumble out unguarded, but more importantly, the connections, I usually do not let myself see, come flooding in.
*to stare with open mouth, as in wonder