It is 9 am in the foothills.
Most people have left for work, leaving silence in their wake. East window of my home glimmers with the pale
light of a rising sun. Silhouettes of leafless
branches sway on the curtains, creating a breathless beauty that can only be
appreciated in solitude.
I watch in awe, savoring how right it feels to have left the
shackles of a traditional job. I am
grateful for this opportunity. I am
grateful for the support of my family, and grateful again for finding the
courage to make the decision. I am fully
aware that there are many who would want to, but cannot; and many who can, but
will not. It is the latter to whom my
heart goes out. Having unfulfilled
desires might make one restless, but what, I wonder, do absent desires do? Absent – not in an unrippled zen way – but in
a way that only profound self-neglect can give rise to?
Outside, wild wind is howling. It is going to snow this afternoon. The skies have grown homogeneous in
anticipation, and the cloud-canopy has dropped to a cozy low. Cozy low – or stifling low? It all depends on perspective, and mine
settles for cozy this moment. I sit with
a cup of coffee in my palms, watching the morning show of dancing branches on
my East window. It looks wild outside. But in here, it is beautifully still. Inside, there is no sound except the
gentle breathing of The Hound while he sleeps.
Outside, the raging wind continues to blow.
Such a difference – inside and outside! Who would open the doors of their homes on
wild winter days, all to invite a blizzard?
Who would forsake the warmth and stillness within? Who would exchange their comforting silence
for mad winds of the external world?
Yet we do it all the time.
How often do we not give up quiet corners of our souls to the
crazy tumult outside? Why?
Blizzards will always blow, storms will always rage around
us. Our job is not to go out and try
silencing them – for we would soon be overwhelmed. Our job – our very necessity – is to build a
shelter inside our own minds: strong enough to withstand the winds, warm enough
to sustain life. The walls of that
shelter can only be built with stillness and silence.
It is what makes frosty winter mornings shimmer with
magic. Having one’s quiet spot…having
one’s safe spot.
