I have spent much time admiring the stars and the moon in the darkness. That is perhaps the one thing I miss the most. Nature: the trees, the croaking frogs, the crickets song, the birds twittering overhead, all made up the best part of my days. It is these things that I think heaven will be made of. There is nothing indeed that can be said that exceeds that which is said in the silence of nature. That silence is harmony, peace, existence. Somehow, in contrast, the silence of the computer screen in front of me in an otherwise empty house finds no comparison.
Since is it Friday, and my son doesn't have classes on Fridays, he has been home today. And, my husband is home now from his 2nd shift job, with the Football something, something, 2011 in the game system, with it's repeated theme music. So, no silence today. But, on silent nights, I find myself again walking through the woods, sitting beside the lake, watching turtles drop into the water, and ducks fly overhead; landing in the water. Or, I am laying on my back on the grassy bank beside my house, with my eyes trained on the stars; picking out the constellations by name.
When we are alone on a starlit night, when by chance we see the migrating birds in autumn descending on a grove of junipers to rest and eat; when we see children in a moment when they are really children, when we know love in our own hearts; or when, like the Japanese poet, Basho, we hear an old frog land in a quiet pond with a solitary splash - at such times the awakening, the turning inside out of all values, the "newness," the emptiness and the purity of vision that make themselves evident, all these provide a glimpse of the cosmic dance. ~Thomas Merton
As Thomas Merton said, these things in the silence of nature remind us of the universe around us, and by virtue of their existence, God. Somehow, the walls of my silent home block out God. Why is it that I can feel Him closer outside than inside? Somehow, my soul becomes truly silent in the beauty of nature. It is here, in my cluster of books, technology, words... that I can hear God the less.
Since is it Friday, and my son doesn't have classes on Fridays, he has been home today. And, my husband is home now from his 2nd shift job, with the Football something, something, 2011 in the game system, with it's repeated theme music. So, no silence today. But, on silent nights, I find myself again walking through the woods, sitting beside the lake, watching turtles drop into the water, and ducks fly overhead; landing in the water. Or, I am laying on my back on the grassy bank beside my house, with my eyes trained on the stars; picking out the constellations by name.
When we are alone on a starlit night, when by chance we see the migrating birds in autumn descending on a grove of junipers to rest and eat; when we see children in a moment when they are really children, when we know love in our own hearts; or when, like the Japanese poet, Basho, we hear an old frog land in a quiet pond with a solitary splash - at such times the awakening, the turning inside out of all values, the "newness," the emptiness and the purity of vision that make themselves evident, all these provide a glimpse of the cosmic dance. ~Thomas Merton
As Thomas Merton said, these things in the silence of nature remind us of the universe around us, and by virtue of their existence, God. Somehow, the walls of my silent home block out God. Why is it that I can feel Him closer outside than inside? Somehow, my soul becomes truly silent in the beauty of nature. It is here, in my cluster of books, technology, words... that I can hear God the less.
