Around the busy edges of life so much noise occurs, causing me to always listen. I would rather shut off the noise, so that I may hear my own silence. It is difficult, shutting off what is constantly streaming at me. How do I do that? Move away, deep into the forest, or some empty desert island? What is always filling me, this noise, would be unable to do so, if I were instead filled with a satisfying silence.
Early in the mornings I sit and listen to myself breathing. In and out she goes, this lively play of air, that is pulled clear into my deeper recesses, then slowly allowed to flow out again and mix with what I am surrounded in, with what I breathe and share with others in our breathing. A hint of silence comes to me when my mind can settle out the noise.
When a moment of noise arrives, I stop it from coming much closer. Then another and another, until thoughts begin to back up, before they begin to simply melt away, turning away from the silence. For some, the task in life is to make noise and listen to others making it. My task is to stop the noise and listen to what was here before it all started. As silence goes and noise comes, I turn my mind away long enough to write a few notes.