Silence, Blocked-In

Being on the road, traveling, quite a bit, I listen for many hours.  To CDs, radio, and lately, a story on CD, Elizabeth gave me for Christmas.  Naturally, I listen to silence the most.  When my head is popping like mom's old radiators when the heat comes on, it's not exactly silent.  But, there are thoughts and messages needing to be processed.  Silent-time seems to be an important event to block out on my calendar in order to process the deep-down, embedded junk I'd rather leave covered up with a thick layer of ice.

Not the "I have to remember" stuff.  Those things I can write on Stickie notes or my Google Calendar.  The things taking the longest to uncover are the most important thoughts in my life.  They don't always come up clean and ready to view, either.  Sometimes, they're crusted over, distorted and I have to pick through the thoughts to get to the genuine, transparent form, before I can process them clearly.  Even when I take the metal brush to get through the corrosion and build-up of debris, my thoughts can be deceiving.  

Window in Old City, Lviv, Ukraine

Waiting, not thinking too much, letting myself dwell in the muddle, helps.  I won't ever be able to discount divine interjection, when I try to reach a conclusion.  (not to say that thoughts ever have a conclusion) I've noticed when I'm the most uncomfortable with, depressed about, and have eventually surrendered myself to distorted thoughts, is when I become open to answers.  The clarity seems to come through my soul.  The voice isn't coming from the drawer full of voices that belong to me.  The ones I've fostered over the years to help keep some order to my life. 

Uneven Cobblestones in Lviv, Ukraine

This voice I hear speaks in simple terms.  It lays out the obvious, but the unclear.  It lets me think I've had the answers all along.  It freely gives me ownership, along with the responsibility for my choices.  I think in the past my heart had to be broken and in a unreliable state before I was able to perceive this voice.  Before I could let myself depend on it's strength.  I don't have to be needy anymore to receive or trust.  But, I do have to consciously tell myself, "You're full of crap, you don't really know what to do."

Travese City Dunes

When I listen through the silence and let myself believe answers will come, my soul becomes receptive.  This voice isn't a controlled, "First, you must...."  or  "You have to do it like this...."  The answers I've received have felt more like floating in the water.  The lifting of gravity away from my mind.  I feel like a sponge that has just touched a warm bowl of water.  I slowly soak in every drop.  

Old Dock for S.S. Chief Wawatam

Honestly, I fight this process more than I let it become what it is.  I don't want to be distraught, weak or vulnerable.  I hate the place I have to be in order to process and salvage answers.  I resent the time it takes before I resign to the uncomfortable.  But, the more I allow myself the time, the more I feel I'm making choices designed for me.  The more I know myself.

As I was searching channels on the radio,  I caught a few minutes of a woman talking about having time with her children.   She was calling in on a talk show.  She said, "I realize that every time I say yes to another commitment, I'm saying no to my children."  She was a working mom and was trying to fulfill obligations outside the home and losing time with her children with each "Yes".

Yes to endless tasks.  Yes to more commitments.  Yes to new obligations.  They all say "no" to knowing myself.  Moving will be full of these distractions.  The stress inevitable.  I have to give myself time to settle.  Give myself permission to say, "No."  Allow myself the time to be a sponge, to slowing soak in the warm and let it be a part of me.  Block out time to process my unreliable thoughts.  Time to hear my soul speak to me.

Sculpture at Cemetery in Ukraine