Silence is like a river of grace inviting us to leap unafraid into its beckoning depths. It is dark and mysterious in the waters of grace. Yet in the silent darkness, we are given new eyes. In the heart of the divine, we can see more clearly who we are. We are renewed and cleansed in this river of silence.
~ Macrina Wiederkehr
I’m conducting an experiment in my life right now.
It consists of simplifying, of creating space, and of becoming quiet and still as often as possible. (Paradoxically, some of the quiet and stillness is achieved through movement in nature, which generates a kind of silence and stillness INSIDE me.)
I would have thought there would be more to report, but the first part of this experiment – where I created space in my life – has resulted in me collapsing in a heap, utterly exhausted, and from where I have done little but nap, attend medical appointments, and in the activities of daily life department I have run a webinar on Connecting To Your Wise Self, cleaned one shelf and one drawer in the pantry (I have accumulated a fine selection of obscure vinegars, spices and seasonings), watched some fine and some trashy television, and completed a very small amount of writing.
The notable exception to this bedraggled state is a return of glimmers of curiosity, and twinkles of ideas at the edge of my consciousness – but when I try to pull them closer to me they vanish.
As I sit in this quiet space, one thing I have become aware of is the vast number of places in myself that I have cobbled together with baling twine, duct tape, staples, glue, stubbornness and momentum. Now I am slowed, all of these things that were held fast in the blur of life are coming undone, collapsing at my feet in dusty rusty piles. I am undecided yet as to whether this is a good thing or not, although I’m leaning towards good.
I’m open-minded as to where all of this quiet might take me.
Mostly, I’m hoping it takes me back to myself.
Love, stovetop decaf espresso latte in my fave mug, sleepy dogs at my feet and a sense of wonder for what life feels like when you stop, Nicole xx