This morning, I reflected on quiet moments, and I’ve learned they are not empty. They are full of answers, if we’re brave enough to listen.
The Noise That Hides Us
A post I recently read spoke of ‘chronic distraction,’ and that feels so right. Its not just the city thing, the endless sirens and traffic. It’s a noise we carry inside us. The phone in our pocket that buzzes with news and opinions, the list of chores, the pressure to be productive even on a Sunday. We fill every crack of silence until we can’t hear the whispers of our own heart. The author said this distraction can make us lose touch with who we are, and I’ve felt that. A few years ago, I felt a constant, low hum of anxiety. I thought it was just stress, but when I finally allowed myself stillness, truly allowed it, during a long, snowed-in weekend, I realized it wasn’t anxiety. It was grief for a path I hadn’t taken. The feelings were tangled, like wild raspberry bushes, and only the quiet allowed me to gently pull them apart.
Learning from the Land
The land here is a great teacher in stillness. In winter, the fields lie dormant under a blanket of snow. They are not dead, and they are not empty. They are gathering strength, resting, preparing for the explosion of life in the spring. We are the same. We think boredom is a sign of failure, that we should always be growing, producing, *doing*. But what if boredom is just our soul’s winter? A time to rest, to let the surface noise die down so we can hear the deeper truths. It’s in these moments, walking the dog with no podcast playing, or just sitting on the porch watching the sun set, that the big questions finally have room to breathe. It’s how I realized I didn’t just ‘like’ yoga; it was the language my soul wanted to speak. It wasn’t a thought; it was a feeling that rose up from the quiet.
You don’t need to move to the countryside to find this. It’s about creating small pockets of stillness in your day. Maybe it’s five minutes on your lunch break with no screen. Maybe it’s the drive home with the radio off. Don’t be afraid of what you’ll find in the silence. It is only you, waiting to be heard. Let boredom be your guide back to yourself. The real you is there, just beneath the noise, as patient and as promising as the seeds under the winter snow.
With love and light,
Jessica