Quiet Enough to Hear

Here’s a thought I’d like to share…

The quieter you become the more you are able to hear. Rumi

~ Reflections from a cabin at Smith Lake ~

It’s only about 5:30am and its still kind of dark, but the day is starting to wake up. Yesterday it rained all day – just drizzle and gray and constant, and somehow cozy and blanketing and full of permission to do nothing. The sky is clearer this morning and nothing impedes my view of the expanse of Smith Lake.

Just minutes ago, the lake was as smooth as glass, nothing moving, nothing disturbing the reflective surface. And then, from somewhere I couldn’t see, way up around the bend, a wake began. I watched as the ripples expanded and widened – slow, smooth concentric rings of movement that spread across the entire lake in the course of the next few minutes.

Now the lake is different. It’s like it, too, woke up. Several boats have gone by and the lake, although still quiet, is no longer still and mirror like.

I know water does that, and maybe that’s why I was called to this lake at this time. I needed to see it, to feel it, to be reminded of the properties of nature that my body and mind have forgotten. So, this morning, I stop and watch and feel and listen and wait. I slow down and feel the stillness and the movement and recognize them both as beautiful and necessary.

I’m being still and letting my mind settle. I’m resting and letting my body settle. I am feeling into the woods and water around me and sensing its gentle nod of welcome. I’ve been moving too much for too long. And I’m grateful for the call to come home. I’ve learned how to hear it, and I know better than to not heed it.

I’ll be back, but with me will come the lake, the woods, the stillness, the ripples, the settled-ness. I have been reminded, and I’m waking up – again.

Wishing you reminders that wake you up to what matters most,
Namasté
Augusta