When The Noise Stops

A Fierce Practice 9 22 17

A) When I got to the farm today, it was loud. The kind of noise of REALLY BIG equipment. A skid steer, a huge excavator, a pump and generator, a big truck, a concrete mixer truck. And yelling. It was also constant. And I got used to it. For at least two hours. There was some relief when the keys turned off in all the equipment. And a exhale of peace when all the septic crew left. The noise stopped. It wasn't just that things were quiet. Things were different. It wasn't an absence of noise, it was a feeling. A dramatic one. A sweep of relief, but also something to get used to. And that's how it is sometimes. The long rough patch in life, a stressful jaunt over a long period of time. Anxiety that becomes normal in our lives. Stress about money or health. It weighs on us like a million wet blankets, but the weight also starts to feel normal. And then, one day, all that noise goes away. And there is silence to enjoy. It seems quiet at first. Surely peaceful. But it it's not dead silent. Soon your ears pick up the crickets. And the bird call. (Is that an eagle in the distance). Even buzzing. The small hum of the refrigerator. There's been sound there all along, something from nature that the bustle or fighting or stress or worry or tension or trauma has been covering up. But it's gone now. It takes time to adjust, there are different things to listen for now.

Read more HERE, quietly.