THE STORY OF "HUSHED"
Most days, life is loud. It is deafening, with one sound trying to drown out the next, nonstop chatter that makes it difficult to hear. Not so on an early winter morning, when a thick, fresh layer of snow muffles all sound, when we hear nothing but our own, crystalizing breath, when our minds and thoughts become as clear as the air that surrounds us.
Think about it: We are not accustomed to “hearing ourselves think” any more. We are letting all the other voices in our life drown out our own. The quiet now is often paired with a qualifier, like “eerie”. But there is nothing eerie about the absence of sound… I cherish these winter mornings, when life gives us a rare opportunity to listen to the slightest breeze, giving voice to single crystals dancing through the air, seeking for attachment. It’s when I find direction.
It is when we allow ourselves to listen to our inner voices that we might just learn something about ourselves.
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