I’m practicing the discipline of silence. Spending time in the quiet. Just me and the mysteries of the spiritual. Why is silence so hard? Easy. It’s like giving my mind free reign to wage a maniac compulsive thinking spree. This is why it’s hard for me to ‘be still and precisely why I need to meditate more.
When I’m silencing the pounding blood in my being to a soft lull, I start to panic. I feel lazy. Like I’m not saving the world or meeting a deadline or putting another load of laundry in or following up on emails. But once I get passed that, everything is okay. Silence invites me into her loving arms and begs me to stay awhile. “It’s your daily does of goodness,” she says with a wink in her eye and a tray of chocolate chip cookies fresh from the oven. And when I listen to her and follow her voice, I know she’s right.
I laid on the floor today. Closed my eyes. Rested my head in the lap of a world without tasks, deadlines, networking events, fears, doubts, questions, tears, loneliness, and the steady tick of a clock. I was quiet for a while and as solitude took her beautiful course, the thought came to me, “Where are you going?”
Normally I would have an answer for that because my daily routine is pretty planned out so I know what I’m doing at hourly intervals…i.e. today I know in 30 minutes I have to run out to Target and buy ice cube trays and apple cider vinegar…then I have to return my library books…then go home and work on a chapter for a client …you get my drift.
A few years ago I would have told you exactly where I was going with my life. ‘Matter of fact, I recently read a journal entry in 2002 where I wrote something like “I will kill myself if I don’t become a NY Times bestselling author by the time I’m thirty.” I also remember having lunch for the first time with my now one-of-my-best-friends when she candidly blurted out, “I have a feeling you’ll be married at twenty-seven” and I almost choked that country bumpkin with my Jersey claws because I was twenty-two at the time and thought FOR SURE living in the Bible Belt would guarantee me a marriage license at MAXIMUM twenty-five.
Needless to say, life happens. Today, at the tender age of thirty-three, I can say I’m not sure where I’m going. It’s not an ambiguous answer because of my lack of enthusiasm for the future, or because I have no long-term goals, or because I’m apathetic or hopeless. It’s just because, for the first time in my life, I don’t know. And that excites me! I catch glimpses of what’s possible every now and again…a seductive taste to keep me from pigeon-holing myself and to, like Henri Nouwen, said “create a space in which something can happen that you hadn’t planned or counted on.”
This is where silence has brought me. To a humility about tomorrow—that it might never come and if it does, I still won’t know for sure what it will bring. To a peace (sometimes overwhelming, sometimes barely beating, but nonetheless always there) that as long as I am doing my best to keep healthy (in all ways), continue in my seeking out of faith (with revelation and without a clue), and love others as I want to be loved…whatever joys, surprises, beauty, divine intervention, and purposed events that are mine to enjoy will unravel, unfold, and open up at the right time.
Where am I going? Definitely somewhere.
What Can Happen When You SHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
Gum & Other Neat Stuff
In the past week I have been the aww-shucks-gosh-darn-it recipient of little blessings that, wrapped in a pretty ribbon of optimism and glorious surprise, mean a whole lot. At least for me.
My new Ipod broke (actually the headphones broke and replacing them costs almost as much as the Ipod itself). My brother gave me two of his Ipods FOR FREE!
After a grueling workout and rushing to get ready at my gym’s locker room for a lunch date while surrounded by thirty just-out-of-zumba-class women all talking at maximum volume with distinct Jersey accents (“Oh my gawd, Jenny, Dominick is learning how to wawk and tawk and drink cawfee!), I found twenty dollars in my jeans!
The cashier at CVS complimented me on my hair and I hadn’t washed it four days!
Before I get into the next one, you must know I am a gum freak. I stop at ALL, that’s right ALL, gumball machines to get at least one gumball. I always wish it to be red. I am always asking people for gum. I chew about three or four pieces at once and exchange the ghastly large wad for a new mega-piece every ten minutes. I try not to do this with sugar-free gum, as the fake sweeteners bloat and gas up my stomach like a dodge ball. I will wake up and slip a piece of gum in my mouth before coffee. I will go to sleep with gum in my mouth. I love gum. You get the point. Today I found a lone piece of gum in my purse!!!!
To know that I can pay attention to and feel warm and fuzzy appreciating the little things in life give me a whole lot of hope. It makes me relax and have faith in the areas of my life that sport a question or two. It reminds me that I will always be provided for and to just focus on doing the best that I can. The rest comes, one way or another.
Boy, I love gum!