On Silence.

Silence has always been my friend.  It calms me.  It gives me space to stretch, to run and jump.  It calls me home to my center and fills my heart with light.  I float there, all me, and everything loosens.

country snow-fall is one of the most silent things I know

I do not come across silence much anymore.  I used to have it in spades!  In fact, I would go out looking for sounds, words, or bustling people from time to time because I would reach the point in which I was full of silence.  Now I grasp at silence, melt into it and dread the breaking of it.  Somedays I spend my entire moment of silence in anticipation of it’s breaking.  And broken it always is… (shattered usually) in shards that scratch my peace and challenge my resolve.

Right now (for a few minutes) I have silence.  Like real silence… the kind that screams into your ears and fills your chest with wind… and it occurs to me that I was created to thrive in it.  I am most ME in silence and stillness.  So, the One Who Loves Me hands it out in life-saving nuggets, urging me to stop and be Me.  Drink.  Rest.  Eat.  Revive.  …And then jump headlong back into the fray because this beautiful storm of noise and tempest of movement will only last so long and I will return to the silence that makes me Me, but I will no longer be that Me.  I will be a Me with a little loud crazy in her soul, and I will long for some of this squall that is Together.

So, when this silence is broken (which has already begun… I can hear it’s demise approaching across the yard, the inevitable march toward defeat), I will pull myself up by the proverbial boot straps and start mucking through my Together.  Because I may have been created to thrive in Silence but we are all created to find our purpose in Together.