I’m having one of those quiet days that come to me when my children and husband are back in school and work after a vacation. The house is quiet, aside from the occasional sigh and bark from the dogs, the whirr of the pellet stove, and the click of the keys on my computer. There is the scratch at the porch door that gets me up and moving to let in the smaller of my two dogs, and the ensuing smile that reminds me that love is about patience and the willingness to shift.
Today I am pondering the pause, the quiet space in our perception of time when stillness takes over the kinetic moments of life. Transitioning from one extreme to another can be uncomfortable, it’s a bit of a shock to the system of self. We can find ourselves a little lost in the place of quiet space where we wait for the next event to occur.
I love solitude, sometimes I crave it to the point of irritation. I need it, we all do, and yet I also crave the yell of bliss that ignites the spirit, forgetting that I can have both. I dwell on the wait, wondering when the next body of words will form to create a poem or a chapter, when someone will call for a healing session, or Spirit will bring me another gift of journey. I get caught up in the wait, forgetting that it is the very gift I need most.
We feel the pulse of our divine light when we succumb to the deep breaths of silence. Here we remember who we are and where we come from. We recharge and realign so that we will be ready to move again.