I woke early this morning and headed for my retreat down in the basement where the center-piece is my espresso machine. My mind was a blank canvas that I assumed would remain blank as thoughts of writing in recent weeks have become more rare.
I look at the steps I am taking and it would appear I am taking purposeful steps to empty my plate…not sure why… but it does appear that way. I wonder to myself… “where is this trail taking me?” I’m still chugging away as a full-time probation officer, but I’m in the process of going inactive with my real estate license, and I’ve pushed pause on the development of my website for writing. “Do I really want to go any further down this path? What’s out there?”
This morning, I sat quietly drinking my first cup of coffee. No journaling… just silence with the exception of the low hum coming from the beer fridge. Occasional thoughts of some of my probation clients drifted by, but for the most part, it was silence.
It’s late November here in northern Colorado and within the past week we had an early snow (won’t call it a storm) which has left us with a couple inches of snow still on the ground. The morning temperature is 13-degrees.
My mind drifted up into the high country…
As I sat in the silence, I began thinking about the beauty of standing in the snow-blanketed forest near Bear Lake in Rocky Mountain National Park. My heart got happy as I thought about the silence of the forest… the wind whipping through the treetops. The silence that comes with no distraction is beautiful; the blanket of snow appears to make the silence even heavier.
I eventually grabbed the journal and began my “morning pages” routine. As the pen moved across the empty lines in my journal, the phrase “listening to the silence” came out.
I thought about my imaginative trip up to Bear Lake earlier this morning. It was therapeutic up there (in my mind). But then, I began thinking about perspective. Yeah… it’s a wonderful trip up into that snowy forest as long as my truck is parked right down the trail at the trailhead… but what if you’re out in the middle of a snowy forest and you have no clue which direction you should be going? That peaceful trip suddenly becomes rather stressful. A snowstorm and the accompanying winds can cover the trail fairly quickly. Without the right equipment, it’s possible to become disoriented and not know how to find your way back to the safety of the trailhead. The silence is no longer your friend as you desperately listen for the sounds of a running vehicle… the voices of others… anything that will help you find your bearings and know which direction to begin moving.
So for me… I am going to remain rather close to the trailhead. I want to know where my truck is, and with that settled, I’m going to find a rock to sit down on and enjoy the silence. There is much to feel… much to be learned if we will embrace the silence and allow ourselves the opportunity to learn how to reflect deeply. I suspect our hearts have much to say to our brains…if we will train our brain to simply be quiet.
(As I talk about climbing mountains in this blog, it’s occurred to me that I really need to understand the “Why?” around my purpose for climbing certain mountains. What do I hope to experience by climbing to the Summit? At 60+ years old, I only have so many mountains left in these knees… so I need to understand what I hope to gain by climbing to the top.
I’m also aware that the Summit is not the prize… but the JOURNEY to the top is the real prize. The experiences gained, the wisdom learned, the memories made along the way… that is the real prize. The Summit will probably be anti-climactic if I make it all about reaching it. I am sure to be somewhat disappointed if that’s what this is all about.
…and for those who have experiences climbing mountains, you certainly understand there is a lot of silence along the trail… and a lot of time to reflect. So I’ll stop talking now, catch my breath, and just listen to the silence out here… I’m not lost… just in a major reflection mode right now.)