I am so glad we’ve reconnected after all these years. I’ve missed you. I didn’t know until recently how important you are to me. You used to be my best friend when I was a little girl. I remember we’d hang out for hours, lost in reverie as we played wood elves in the trees by our little creek in the forest. Ensconced in a high branch, we’d survey the world below, our own little kingdom where birds and the occasional squirrel would hold court. You’d follow me around as I explored buttercups in the meadow near our home. The flowers reminded me of butterscotch and as we held them up to the sun, the light would filter through the petals and create soft orange circles of color around us. The petals did not taste butterscotch sweet, or anything like butter, but exploring sure was fun. After a drenching rain, you’d walk by my side in companionable…well, Silence…you’d just be you…as I’d float homemade boats of leaves down the miniature river that came to life for just a few hours in the gutter between sidewalk and street. Together we’d watch the crafts filled with various jewels of our imagination float off into the horizon, envisioning all the marvelous places we would go. Ah, the games we would create together with sound… the spontaneous songs we’d write just came so easily when you were around. I loved the trance we’d enter on our swing set, listening to the creak of the chains and sound of the wind in our ears as we’d pump higher and higher until it seemed we’d fly over backwards. With you, I could see more vividly, hear more deeply, taste more thoroughly, experience everything more clearly, and usually fun-loving Creativity would stop by and join us for a delicious afternoon of adventure."
There was a whole lot more, but you get the picture. Read the rest at http://zenlifecoaching.net/2011/03/a-letter-to-silence
I posted this reply:
"I love this. The simple message; the imagery; the storytelling. As my work days, so full of worry, anger, and the worst stress I’ve ever had, wind down to an end, I will challenge myself to at least MEET Silence. Perhaps even in the next few weeks as I go to a few places (in Nevada) where Silence might be, I might catch a glimpse. I just realized that Don knows Silence’s cousin – the gentle rippling of the water in the creeks he’s fished all these years – and that for hours at a time he’s alone with his thoughts. I guess I ought to try some time without the TV, or the radio, or the iPod, and see if that eases the stress in my life. I bet it will."
She knew exactly what I was talking about, as her response to me was this:
"Cyndi, you have met her. She remembers you! The 3 of us were blessed to hang out a few times together backpacking. I am so glad you are nearing the end of the long road you have traveled in your work, as you’ve led, championed and even dragged a few others with you. You have worked so hard and it is a job well done. I am so proud to be your sister. I’m picturing long meandering days camped lakes, crafting to your hearts content while Don fishes with Silence’s cousin, evenings where you watch the sun set as you soak up the peace you have longed for the recent years, and then shared delightful dinners with Don, savoring food and time to the music of crickets and frogs. Ahhhhhhhhhhh….. Can’t wait to hear all about it!"
As I write this, I'm sitting in my camp chair next to the Owens River about 5 miles west of Bishop, California. We're here for several reasons. 1) It's on the way to Pyramid Lake, our destination for the first part of spring break; 2) The Owens is a wild trout fishery, fly-fishing only, and therefore one of Don's favorite rivers; and 3) It's a no-hookup Inyo County campground that costs only $10 a night.
We arrived here at noon, and Don's been out stalking the wild trout for nearly 5 hours. Until about half an hour ago (when a chatty group of fishermen returned to their nearby trucks), I've been enjoying the sounds of the campground: the gently-flowing river, a light breeze, chirping and singing birds, and a frog that's gotten a jump on the nighttime croaking. These sounds are the sounds I cherish-the cousins to Silence-and it will be these sounds that will heal me when I finally, finally get to retirement and the travels that will take me wherever Don and I decide to go.
I was telling Don about Toi Lynn's and my exchange last night, and we talked about how often we have background noise (especially the television) that prevents us from hearing the beautiful sounds. We have no hookups here-and this fact is not a source of disappointment any more. I don't have to get caught up in the sounds of television any more to where I don't hear the beautiful sounds. Sure, I'll still watch TV-but just not as much. I bet that in just a few short days I'll be hearing even more of those beautiful sounds than I'm hearing now.
I'm now writing this 2 days later from the Starbucks in Bishop. Sunday morning we were having coffee, preparing for the drive to Pyramid Lake, and I checked the weather on my iPhone. We learned that 2 separate cold fronts were moving in to the Reno area, and we would be battling high winds, showers, and possibly even some snow. Not for us. We decided to stay here at Pleasant Valley Campground 2 more nights- the price is right ($10)-and then move to Brown's Town Campground for full hookups for 3 nights. The weather is gorgeous and Don's in heaven fishing his favorite river.
We still might go to Fallon next week, but it depends on the weather.
At any rate, my stress level is zero. Sure, I wish I had electricity so I could do some sewing, but that will come. Until then, I'm definitely enjoying the beautiful sounds.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad