There has been so much noise, so much fodder. SO much change and fluxuation and static and interaction that is apt to inspire my deepest well, trigger my most analytical leanings, and now that the din has quieted slightly, that decisions are made and the remaining questions rest far on the horizon I find myself craving silence.
Peace. And I realize I don’t even know how to make that happen.
I was sitting near the river in the snow in a small mediation room and coveting this quiet with an intensity that felt more like a gap than an ache, more like a canyon I couldn’t find a path down into then a plateau I’d need to sweat my way into. And I couldn’t help but to wonder how to get down in there…it seemed like it should be easy. Is it just a matter of leaping? Caution to the wind, hoping ot find a soft landing. Or taking the right tool and packing provisions and taking a slow and simple path down the side? Am I, maybe, scared I’ll get stuck half way and have to climb my way out again, petrified of the work such backtracking will entail?
And then there is the boredom? Will anyone else be down there? Can I stand to be alone? Am I just sitting here by the side of the road hoping to follow someone else to their own resting place because I fear mine won’t be as cozy, have too much open space or not enough or a harder ground to sleep on?
I have no idea.