It's four thirty on a Tuesday afternoon. I'm sitting next to our gas hearth and reveling in the quiet. Ron and Joan are both away. Bodhi is sleeping soundly in his kitty bed. The world seems gracious and good. Few states provide more healing for my spirit than that of silence. Actually silence isn't accurate. There is the ticking of two family heirloom clocks that Ron has going. They strike alternately doing a gentle tick tock dance. The gas fire has a soft whine and periodically there is the sound of a car driving up El Granada Boulevard. Otherwise there is a kind of silence.
In this silence my thoughts can rest. I am not pulled by offers to add something to my world or news of the latest update on Japan's tragedy. I am not massaged by music or song. I can slow my body/mind and troll for what may be important or useful now. Or I can avoid selection and simply take this now into consciousness. Silence feels like cool water on my soul. In a noisy world I rejoice in the blessing of silent moments.