The Sound of Silence


I just took a 2 day reprieve which is extremely rare for me. I am one of the busiest people I know. The end of the year, the holidays, and surviving 2013 in general, had me feeling crazy the other day and while talking with a friend on the phone, I told her I wished I could get away for a break alone. She told me she was leaving for a trip and I could use her home. I was exhilarated as no sooner did I ask, than it materialized. My friend lives in Kitsilano, Vancouver just a couple blocks off the ocean, and her being a health practitioner, her home is like a sanctuary. She's well traveled and her place is like a sacred vessel tastefully decorated with small spiritual statues, beautiful tapestries, throws and rugs, and pictures of angels and dolphins.

When I got there I sat on the couch and I was overcome first with the silence. It enveloped me, and although I wanted to take advantage of the dry-weather day, I dozed off in the rapture of peace.

I had not realized how much I missed Silence. I let it cloak me. I listened intently to its loudness. It made me feel safe. I became aware of its capacity, its ebb and flow....closeness, then openness. Microcosm of me, within the macrocosm of all.

I woke in time to head out for that walk along the ocean. I walked into the dusk and enjoyed the colours of the ocean, mountains, city in the distance, all in the powdery blue light of a grey day. I took a busy street on the stretch back home and picked up some dinner items, and window shopped along the way.

After cooking and enjoying dinner in someone else's kitchen and dining room, I got into a book she'd left for me to read a chapter out of. It was a book called, "Astrology for the Soul," and I read about my north node, which was fascinating how much it told me about myself. It was a perfect way to spend my first evening... reflecting on my challenges, and finding ways to improve in this lifetime. I love astrology, beyond the airy everyday basic-sign messages, those that know their stuff can get deep into the psyche of us once fueled with details of our time, date,  and location of our birth on the planet. While I read I sipped red wine, and on the stereo was Cafe del Mar, (spiritual-house music) which really helped me get into what I was reading. I slept wonderfully after that.

The next day between writing, and going for coffee, I had booked time in with my brother who lives just around the block. We went for an amazing sushi lunch and brainstormed on projects we are working on, and philosophized on where we are headed as a race in regard to work, social structure, survival etc. It's always stimulating conversation with him.

I broke away mid-afternoon to read and write, and the silence grabbed me again. After sleeping a good ten hours the night before, the silence cloaked me like a mother's love and I had an indulgent afternoon nap. I realized I am silence-deprived in my current living situation up in our high rise. I slept easily here, woke up feeling rested, and could quickly fall asleep whenever I laid my head back and closed my eyes.

I pushed myself to get up for the evening, even though the darkness was heavy now, it being a late winter afternoon. I spent the rest of my day back at my brothers where he made a delicious simple meal for his wife and I. Great conversation, good wine, and then my brother treated me to a foot rub.  Feeling very relaxed and content, just like their cat,  I took my sleepy self out into the wet night home with the umbrella as my shield.

I felt for certain, with all the rest I'd been getting I would not be able to sleep and could finally get up to some lengthy writing. Alas that did not happen, as the silence held me again. My lids were heavy and I was out by 10:30pm.

I awoke at 8:30am to the soft sound of rain outside, and bundled up to head out into the Vancouver wet again for my morning coffee. I managed to write at the coffee shop, which I love doing, as I can sit and journal or see what flows spontaneously, all-the-while very aware of my surroundings as I people watched. Sometimes I write about the people I see. This time I wrote about the weather and its sights and sounds, and how Vancouverites deal with the wet on a daily basis.

After my coffee and muffin, I went back to tidy up my friend's place, and pack to get home, my 48 hours already gone. I felt good about my time spent and vowed to find more time this year to do  similar. It's important to recharge one's batteries, reassess and reflect, and feel and listen to the sounds of silence.