My online journal where I share my interests in photography, nature, coffee life, journaling, fountain pens, bicycling, spirituality and asking deep questions.
Sometimes I can be overwhelmed when too many conversations are going on in my head. These disruptive conversations can be a distraction from the present moment. It reminds me of the intense chatter of the magpie sitting on the fence post near me as I witness the sunrise. It seems their only focus is about grabbing my attention, pulling me away. And, that chatter is so different, an irritating noise, rather than the songs of the heart I hear from the meadowlark or chickadee, which for me is more of an invitation to watch and listen. I am finding it a gift in learning to let go of my mind’s chatter and be more receptive to listening to my inner “silent land.” I hope you have had a wonderful Monday.
Have you ever heard the wonderful silence just before the dawn? Or the quiet and calm just as a storm ends? Or perhaps you know the silence when you haven’t the answer to a question you’ve been asked, or the hush of a country road at night, or the expectant pause of a room full of people when someone is just about to speak, or, most beautiful of all, the moment after the door closes and you’re alone in the whole house? Each one is different, you know, and all very beautiful if you listen carefully.
Allow yourself to be like a child, seeing the world through fresh eyes. Instead of trying to control life by making sense of it, embrace ambiguity and paradox as being the domain of the truest things.
Mirabai Starr
I’ve come to realize we can only experience the world when we are a part of it. Seeing it with fresh eyes. Feeling the cold. Listening to the silence. Smelling the tangy fragrance of pine. Watching the clouds constantly change shape. Realizing how a small a part we are within the cosmos. So, even at my age I desire to be childlike but not childish, seeing the world with fresh eyes, embracing ambiguity and paradoxes and letting go of the need to know the answers!
So this morning I needed to take my car in because it was making a noise. I dropped it off then took the bus home. It takes two bus rides and a walk halfway across campus to get home and about 45 minutes. I discovered and appreciate just how easy bicycling really is.
Took this image on the second bus ride as we left campus.
I feel sadness today. Found out my medical insurance did not pay as much as expected so now I owe more. The car is going to cost more than expected. This country, and the world, seems to be bent on hatred and violence, unrest and division, all of which causes finger pointing, blaming, and always perpetuating resentments. Coming to mutual solutions doesn’t seem to be on the horizon. And believing our diversity is our strength rather than a problem doesn’t seem to be part of anyone’s vision.
But on a positive note we have beautiful blue skies and sunshine to bask in. So, once I arrived home, I let nature speak to my soul, as only she can. I sat in the warm sun, which feels almost like being hugged, and ate a refreshing orange. I watched leaves dancing with the wind and excitedly take to the air. I watched a group of Sparrows snatching insects out of the air. I listened to Blue Jays making a racket in the trees. They could be arguing but I doubt they will kill each other. And, I sit with inner silence, my journal, pen and let my breath be my prayer. Thanks for listening if you read this far.
Usually when you listen to some statement, you hear it as a kind of echo of yourself. You are actually listening to your own opinion. If it agrees with your opinion, you may accept it, but if it does not, you will reject it or you may not really hear It. That is one danger when you listen to someone.
I am learning to pray again, not in the way I was taught as a child, but in all the ways the desert has taught me to listen.
Terry Tempest Williams
Over 20 years ago I was given the suggestion to learn how to pray in my own way, that maybe prayer was much more than I had been taught as a child. That suggestion has become a wonderful gift. So my life of prayer, the how, what and who of my prayer is, has become so experiential, personal and inclusive. It is always evolving, a conversation, yet without words. It has become more about listening to an inner voice and listening to nature. I include my journaling, listening for words, as a form of prayer, as is reading. Might as well include laughter as prayer. So is crying. Watching the sunrise. Taking in a deep breath is prayer. And, if we take the lesson, we will find nature teaches us silence to sit with. I’m learning to be silent in the silence of prayer.
The diffused light late in the afternoon seems to play magic with clouds. I’m drawn to their beauty. So I drove out to Reservoir Ridge Natural Area late yesterday afternoon to watch nature play with the clouds and listen to the quiet. The air was still. I stood motionless, watching it all take shape. The quiet descended. It was a time for contemplation and for allowing myself to be touched at some deep level – a time for receiving photographs. I headed home knowing there would soon be a mysterious transformation into the darkness of night. And, it would happen without me.
We have a beautiful day with clear skies and sunshine. May see temperatures into the upper 40s.
