Stillness 5-27: I was wakened in the middle of the night by the very loud sound of birds chirping. It was 1:39 am, so the surreal sound made me sit up in bed. What was happening that was creating so much commotion right outside my window? Then some owls joined in the strange chorus, hooting through the early summer night and my room was filled with a fantastic, bizarre orchestra.
The birds returned to silence at last, and the owls flew off for a while, and I lay in my bed, imagining the great change that seems to have overtaken the world. It occurred to me that, in some ways, I was dreading things going “back to normal.” Not that I don’t love my family, my friends, and my work—but that I increasingly love the strange stillness that has descended on my usual routine. It’s as though each day is like a long summer afternoon lying in the hammock, reading a book, lost in a dream. Or playing in the woods with childhood friends. And I even used to love blizzards that shut out the world for a time—there was nothing to be done but to curl near the fire, tell stories, and play games together while heavy snow cocooned our home. I liked that! I realize now that the dreaminess, the playfulness, and the stillness is the life I enjoy most. I don’t want to give it up, now that I’ve discovered it again.
As I listened to the birds in the middle of the night, I thought how, for every one of us, this is a time of great reckoning. Many of us are struggling with life-and-death issues: health and healing, poverty and hunger, sheer disaster. If we’re not struggling with the outer expressions of this cataclysm, it has certainly affected our interior worlds. We are all being forced to re-evaluate how we’ve lived up till now. We’re being absolutely required to assess what matters most to us and to settle for nothing–nothing–less than that. Clear away all the debris from your soul—really discern what you dread and what you long for when things return to “normal.” Know that you’ll do it differently: that you must live your passion, your longing, your desire. Let these come to life now, when they’re not squashed by obligations, duties, and outside influences. Let them surface and bloom. Dare to live differently, to love differently, and to be different—by being yourself.