I don’t know if it’s because I had hearing issues as a child or because I’ve experienced the deep, unyielding silence of the desert that even the wind refused to disturb, but lately silence is the one thing I crave. Sure, it’s quiet here at Serenity Cove for the most part. Most people would find it very quiet, but I find the spring symphony of crickets, frogs, buzzing insects, song birds and even the content sounds of the geese and chickens deafening.
I was contemplating my craving this evening while putting bedding hay into Asset’s stall. It dawned on me. I am not craving the silence of my surroundings, but of my mind and heart and emotions. I’ve been so mentally caught up in what needs to be done for our up coming workshops, the spring garden, getting the early spring medicinal herbs gathered in from forest and field, writing my book, and listing items in the Etsy shop that I haven’t taken the time to clear my mind and just be.
Sometimes letting go of “need to” thoughts is difficult, especially for those of us who take responsibility seriously. But this evening as I was in the sheep stall being nuzzled by half a dozen noses it struck me: Need to thoughts are just another distraction from enjoying the moment. So I let go of my mind and just enjoyed the feel of Andromeda’s warm muzzle, the softness of Daisy’s freshly shorn head, the weight of Iris’ head and neck leaning on my shoulder, Broccoli and Lilac behind me gently nosing my neck and hair bun, and the soft brush of Sade against my arm. And then something wonderful happened amid the sounds of breathing, chewing cud, geese chattering, the rushing of the waterfall, and all the other thousands of little sounds; silence crept in, wrapped her gentle arms around me, and there was not a thought nor care in my soul.
The joy of each moment is when silent peace abounds.
Until next time,
Craft No Harm,
Moriah
