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January 27th, 2011 Today, for my 15 minutes of silence, I didn’t have to venture into “the silent room” because I dragged my favorite rocking chair into the TV room to watch two hours of American Idol last night. Now, just muting the TV wasn’t going to work. I had to actually shut it off. Shutting off the picture gave me a strange feeling – almost like I didn’t want the people on the screen to leave me, but I had no choice – it just wouldn’t be 15 minutes of silence with them there in the room with me. (even though they wouldn’t be making any sound, they weren’t silent) I shut the Telly off and settled into my chair to read my daily meditations.
Then I sat there, just feeling what I was feeling. I realized it was fear – fear was what I felt when it came time to turn off the TV.Fear of being totally and completely alone. Fear of what the silence might tell me…..
And so, as another day goes by, fear ended my 15 minutes of silence today, and ….I have written.
January 26th, 2011 15 minutes can be either a very short amount of time or a very, very long amount of time. It all depends on what you're trying to do in it. If you only have 15 minutes before your hair appointment and want to stop and pick up your prescription at the pharmacy, 15 minutes isn't nearly enough time and at least 5 minutes of it is gone before you get out the door and into the car. If you're trying to sit still, in perfect silence, alone in a room, 15 minutes can feel like a very long time.
After reading Listening Beneath the Noise by Anne LeClaire, a book where she spends two Mondays a month in total silence, I decided to spend 15 minutes a day in total silence to just experience a little bit of the incredible journey she went on. So….how's that been workin out for me?
Well, in a previous blog, I wrote about an epiphany between God and me that happened when I found myself accidentally in a silent moment. That was the day I bought and read Anne's book and was taken aback by her experience. I muddled her thoughts around for maybe a week and Monday morning I decided I'd try it. I turned down the TV and went into the other room and settled into my rocking chair. First I read my daily meditation. Then I waited. Ok, God, I'm here and I'm silent, where are you? I waited some more and began drumming my fingers on the arms of my chair. The only epiphany I was having was that patience, stillness, and total silence, even for 15 minutes, might be a little out of reach for me. In the background I heard the TV from the other room because I just lowered it instead of turning it off. Ahh..that's what's wrong. My silence is being disturbed. I didn't do it right. I can't believe I sat there telling myself I didn't do "silence" right. Sometimes I don't know how I live with me.
Tuesday Day 2 – Ok, today I was going to do this right. I muted the TV before going to "the silent room" as I now was beginning to think of it. I settled in my chair and read my usual morning meditations. Then I thought of something my yoga teacher said – try to have an empty mind – stay in that space between two thoughts. Anyone who knows me even a little bit, knows I never have an empty mind and there isn't even a smidgen of space between my thoughts because I'm always onto the next one even before I finished the one I was on, but I'll give it a try. I looked at the grates in the window across the room, picked one square to focus on and tried to put my mind in the small window pane and find that elusive "space between two thoughts". Well, the schoolbus went by and I suddenly thought of how much I missed teaching children, felt sad, and…well, that ended day two of 15 minutes of silence. I returned to the TV and resumed the Early Show.
Today – Day 3 – This silence thing is beginning to get to me. I don't want to do it anymore, but I can't stop. So once again, I muted the TV and ventured into "the silent room". I read my morning meditation and gained some insight from it. Then I just tried to sit and let the universe work. Ahh…I think I feel some energy beginning to move through me….wrong again. I just managed to knock over my water bottle when I set my book down and had water all over the wood floor, which now had to be cleaned up. Silence, for today, was over because everyone knows once you break the silent moment and let everyday life in, it's over for the day.
After cleaning up the water, I happened to glance at a new More magazine on the counter. I opened it to an ad for a new app for the magazine. The woman who invented the app was featured. She left her job in the corporate world to start her own company – a company to help companies. Sounded complicated, but I did get to the end of her article and she said, "I stepped out of the corporate world to pursue my own passion," she says of her own reinvention. "Whether you're trying a new job or a new technology, we're all good at learning things. You just have to have patience."
Think maybe this goes for silence, too? Can you really learn silence? Hmmm….Somehow I think that word patience is going to come into play here. We'll see what tomorrow brings.
And so, as another day goes by, I'm wrestling with the concept of "doing silence right", and…I have written.
January 25th, 2011 The new season of American Idol is once again upon us. Idol time, for my sister and I, was “mommy & me” time with our mom. She was pretty much house bound for the last few years of her life and TV and her children and grandchildren’s visits were her main connections to the outside world. For five months, from January to May, my sister and I would engage in lively weekly discussions over our Idol picks with her. I remember timing my trips last year to NY to I include an “Idol night” so we could sit and watch together.
Mom is not with us this Idol season, and neither is Simon. How mom loved listening to “that Simon” as she used to call him. Everything about this Idol season will be different for my sister and me, but one thing that will never change are all the precious things that our mom left us with.
There are certain things a mother teaches her daughters and though at times she exasperated my sister and I to no end, we came to realize that she was teaching us how to raise a family and become moms ourselves. Out of all the lessons my sister and I learned, I think the one that stands out as being the most important, is that our mom taught us, by example, how to love our children unconditionally. As mad as mom made us, or we made her, she never turned us away from our home or used her love as emotional blackmail. It was there, no matter what.
She drove my sis and I crazy always wanting to know where we were. If we didn’t call for a few days, the one of us who DID call would hear “I don’t know where that sister of yours is!” My sister and I always used to joke about who’s the “good” daughter this week. (Mind you we have two brothers, but she never asked us where they were!) I remember one time sitting on the beach with my sister and her iPhone rang with Mom’s picture on it and we looked at each other and said, “Who’s gonna answer?”. Neither of us did, cause we knew in two minutes my iPhone would ring next with her picture on it! Sure enough. We laughed as I answered, “Hi mom” and the first words out of her mouth were “I don’t know where that sister of yours is!” and how all three of us laughed when I told mom she’s sitting here next to me on the beach and we knew you’d call me next, if she didn’t answer. My sister and I led busy lives working full time and each raising two little kids and at times, we just didn’t think mom understood that.
We thought, she’s being unreasonable about us not “checking in” daily with her. Didn’t she get it that we had ballgames, homework, groceries, dinner, bathtime, etc. all after a full days work? Didn’t she know our day didn’t end until well after midnight as we washed that last load of laundry because one of our daughters just had to have that certain pair of jeans for school the next day? Didn’t she get it that we need to sit with our husbands and discuss the schedule for the next day or there’d be a major breakdown in our household if one of us couldn’t go to see our child play in the game the next day? Not to mention the amount of school paperwork that came home everyday and you were a bad parent if your child arrived the next day without the correct number of toilet paper tubes necessary for the class project, the cupcakes you promised for the party, or the permission slip that would make your child the only one in the whole school not able to attend the movie, etc.
Ahh…but she knew. Mom knew alot more than I imagined when I was a young mother in my thirties, thinking I could do it all. The phone would ring at 10 am on a Saturday morning. I’d drop the vacuum cleaner, jump over some moved furniture, kick off my sandals and tip toe across my wet kitchen floor to get to the phone. I’d pick it up and hear, “Hi Lin, what are you doing?” I’d scream into the phone, “What do you THINK I’m doing?” Then I’d start in – the kids, the house, the money, no time, I’m tired – and just as I got to the tired part, the tears would come. Mom never got mad at the mean way I just treated her. When I was done, she’d say what she always said, with such quiet confidence, “Such is life and Lin, it will get better,” and it was better – even before I hung up the phone. I’d replace the receiver and go back to my vacuuming with a different feeling. I’d tic off my tasks for the rest of the day and fall into bed at night happy and accomplished, because there are things only my mom knew.
I cherish the “idol time” and “Idol talk” I shared with my mom last season. I’m just arriving at the acceptance of her passing, after a few hard fought months. (during which I almost killed off my own family, and owe them a huge thank you for their patience.)
Now I can sit among the things she left us, pick them up and use them to be a better mom to my girls. No matter what they throw at me, I will always stand firm for them, and hope they will learn from me and my mom and pass this unconditional love on to any children they may have in the future.
I dedicate this blog to my sweet sister who sits with me this Idol season and shares with me the memory of this special “mommy & me” time. I love you, sis.
And so, as another day goes by, both Mom and Simon are gone, my sister and I will be okay, and…I have written.
January 24th, 2011 Mortified is the only word to describe looking back at yourself after doing something so humiliating and out of character, that you can’t believe it was actually you that did it. Watching the news one morning I saw the video of the lady texting while walking in a mall and falling into the fountain. Then they interviewed the woman and my heart went out to her anguish as she described her humiliation at having the video all over TV and YouTube. She fervently warned of the danger of what she did, but having it on national tv mortified her. She wakes up crying and has been crying for days. Marysol on the Early Show, just after doing the story, said “You just have to wake up and laugh it off like those of us in tv have learned to do or we’d never be able to get out of bed in the morning.”
I’m sure we’ve all been mortified at some point in our life. My heart when out to her when memories of my own trip down mortification lane came rushing back. I had just had a particularly serious time in my life and was going to a party. I had decided that I needed to lighten up and went to the party intending to just chill and have fun. Well, some unsuspecting soul introduced me to jagar shots. Jagar has, in our house, has had a moratorium put on it, citing the fact it changes your personality. I agreed with this wholeheartedly, living vicariously through the experience of others, never having tried it myself. Let’s suffice to say my experience involved waking up in a dark room with no door. The next day, as my husband apprised me of the post-jagar events, I was mortified. As I tried thinking back on the events of the evening, it was like looking at someone I didn’t recognize. I, too, like the woman in the video, cried for days after being humiliated in front of only a small group of people, let alone on national tv. For days I woke up with the memory pressing on my chest, just like she did. I’m sure that lady would agree – if we could be granted one “do over” in our lives, this would be it for both of us.
Laughing it off is not easy, because for both the lady and I, it was no laughing matter. What we both did was dangerous. She said she could’ve just as easily been walking in front of a bus, and as for me, being out if control of your own personality is never a safe thing.
But as my mom used to say, such is life. We walk through it, navigating the land mines as best we can, but we inevitably step on one. One of my personal goals for 2011 is to be able to “swallow the explosion and digest it”. Swallowing the explosion makes me think of the visitors on V when their skin peels back and their jaws unhinge to swallow a huge thing like snakes do. Digesting the explosion, to me, means not taking myself too seriously, but not laughing it off, either. Everything in life must be digested with balance, even our most mortifying moments.
This last week in January is a good time to gather a few things that will promote the health of my mind, body and spirit during 2011 and in addition to keeping me busy, will allow me to grow and learn and change during this new year.
And so, as another day goes by, resolution #1 is formed, and…I have written.
January 23rd, 2011 This morning, putting on my makeup, I noticed I was standing with all my weight on my right leg, knee totally locked. Yesterday in the grocery store I was standing in line with perfect posture and looked down to see my “feet together, toes and heels touching. At the table I found myself sitting with “all ten fingers interlaced and glued under my throat”. I sit by the tv with my feet twisted as if in eagle pose. The best one was while talking on the phone, I was in standing bow pulling pose, balancing on my locked left leg holding my right ankle in my right hand trying to see my foot up over my head in the reflection of the window across the room. The poses seem to be taking over my body subconsciously, infiltrating every part of my day, surprising me. I wonder if this means the yoga teachings are finally sinking in and taking hold? The poses are feeling natural and all my other body systems have responded with things like improved digestion, zero gastric problems, EXCELLENT deep sleep all night long, craving only healthy foods like chicken, fish, and plants, eating alot less, having little or no desire for alcohol, sugar, or caffeine, lost almost 10 pounds and have no more joint pain or sinus problems. Physically, all systems go!
Today we were helping my daughter move some furniture. I was balancing two couch cushions on my right shoulder and the walk to the door was long. My arm and shoulder started to feel uncomfortable and what did my mind suddenly do? Told me “to suck in my stomach and use my core and find stillness in the breath” while walking. The focus and determination I practice everyday in class took hold. I made it into the building and up three flights of stairs just fine. It was a pleasant surprise to have that strength come naturally out of nowhere and conquer the wimpy “I don’t think I can make it” syndrome.
Suddenly my mind possesses a tremendous power of determination. I am beginning to feel I really can do whatever I set my mind to, even if it’s hard and not what I WANT to do, but what I HAVE to do. I can push myself with a will I never felt I had. In the poses each day the instructor encourages us to go someplace we’ve never been before and not be afraid. In backward bend she always says fear is the only thing holding you back and she assures us no one’s head has ever fallen off trying to see the wall behind them. She says one day you’ll see the back of your mat. I used laugh when she said this, but ever since I have been able to squarely face the wall behind me, I think that actually may be possible.
Conquering fear and developing a relentless determination that leaves the studio with me and grows like a vine within me, showing itself in daily life situations without me having to call it up, is evidence the yoga teachings have taken over my mind and spirit, too.
I remember the first day the instructor said, “Thirty days, change your body, 60 days, change your mind, 120 days, change your life”. My only goal that day was to stay in the room, much less change ANYTHING. Now, after 90 days, I really feel the life change taking place deep inside me.
And so, as another day goes by, my sixteen week yoga review yields positive results, and…I have written.
January 22nd, 2011 In this time of all the heads of state giving the state of their unions, it’s time for me to reflect on the state of the union of my mind, body, and spirit.
January 2011 – Time to go back to last year’s list of resolutions and tell myself how I did. My first resolution was to spend less. That I did. I only buy food and gas regularly, gifts, when necessary, and go shopping for things for the house only when I’m doing a room. Mmm…good…check.
My second one was no alcohol on weeknights. I can’t believe that last year I even had a need to say that. I’m happy to say, one year later, as a result of the Bikram yoga, my craving for both alcohol and coffee have all but disappeared. I’ll have an occasional afternoon coffee with a friend, and alcohol only in a social situation. I do remember last year having that nightly glass of wine and wanting to kick that habit knowing it was like drinking a nightly glass of sugar, but it was hard to leave an open bottle on the counter or in the frig and not touch it. Now, one year later, it can sit there for 2 weeks and I end up pouring it out. So….again, good..check.
Three and four were to attend butt/gut class and hang upside down on a pole. The butt/gut one representing a need to be more consistent in my form of exercise, and the pole thing represents trying new forms of exercise. I’m happy to report to myself that listening to my daughters and getting into the Bikram yoga soundly accomplished both. I have attended class religiously for 16 weeks now, and it has changed my life profoundly over the course of a very tough year. Thank you my dear, dear, daughters for saving your mother’s life. Good….again, check.
Number five was to begin to write something. I remember being very frustrated with myself, feeling the need to write, but not having the confidence to overcome the “What if it isn’t good enough?” thorn. I was also exasperated with myself because the year before I convinced myself I needed a room to write in and when I finished that, I’d begin writing. (I finished the room in ’09 and there it was 2010 and still not a word was written.) Again, I’m happy to report ta..daa…here I am..writing! And doing it daily to boot! Along about the time I started the yoga, I started this blog for the purpose of not letting a day go by without writing something, even if it was only one sentence. I’m proud to say I haven’t missed a day. Also, this blog has helped overcome the confidence blocker. Pushing that button to publish my writing on Facebook was a major hurdle for me, but I knew I had to be brave and put it out there for all to see. (My first published post left me in a hot/cold sweat after pressing the publish key, and I only did so by convincing myself that no one is going read it, no one is going to care, and no one is even going to notice it.) I had to come to believe that I’m not writing for a particular audience and it doesn’t matter what I say. I’m writing for me to explore where I am as a writer. Instead of the fear I expected, I have found great freedom in this. For one of the few times, in anything I’ve ever done in my life, I don’t care what others think of my work. ( I learned from Anne LeClaire, an author I admire, that all writers need to develop a “lizard skin”, so I am slowly turning a leathery dark shade of green.)
I was pleasantly surprised to learn I actually have some readers that read my posts regularly and write to me. Needless to say, those of you who are my “fanbase” have been a great source of encouragement and a major force in instilling further confidence in myself. Thank you for following my trek through the muck of a beginning writer’s life. I appreciate you to no end. And..again, good….check.
Ahh…number six…the last is always the hardest. The first five resolutions were very concrete and it was easy to say either I did it or I didn’t. Being the overly sensitive and complex person I am, I couldn’t just leave it at that. I HAD to include an exercise for my mind, heart and soul and, of course, I’d make it a real challenge by choosing something that goes against my very nature and try to change it. I decided to “live and let live and don’t force things”. I bought the “Angel of Peace” necklace and wore it as a touchstone religiously. This being, because it said on the card, the only people the angel of peace cannot help are those that go around always trying to fix things and make things happen. I knew I was in over my head from the get-go. I’m a “fixer” by the very nature of my being. I want everyone in my world happy. When one of my loved ones is experiencing a rough patch, I feel it’s my duty to do everything I can to fix it. I hate, absolutely hate, fighting, estrangement, and discord of any kind in my world and will keep relentlessly trying to set it right again. What I found was, this really pisses people off. What may be good intentions on my part, is really robbing people of going through their own struggles that they need to experience to change and grow themselves and I, with my “fixing” end up impeding that process. They get mad and I get hurt.
Two wonderful people in my life have given me crutches to help me on my journey to leave people alone. A very good friend of mine of over thirty years came to visit me this summer. When she left, I found a hand written note on my fridge. It said:
“Sometimes God will calm the storm, but sometimes God will let the storm rage and calm his child.”
And just the other night, a writer friend of mine said, “When someone is in trouble, don’t ask God to take away their trouble because it may be something God needs for them to go through. Instead, just pray that God go and be with them.”
So….how’s this workin’ out for me? Along about September I thought I had it down and removed the angel from it’s worn leather cord and changed my necklace. Let’s just suffice to say, now, in January of 2011, I retrieved the angel, put her on a silver chain, and resigned myself to wearing her until probably this time next year. Usually I’m a quick study, but God and the angel have their work cut out for them in 2011.
And so, as another day goes by, the state of me is bittersweet, but I’m not a quitter, and…I find great joy in saying…I have written.
January 21st, 2011 Pranayama breathing (which means standing deep breathing) is how we begin each yoga class. Interlace your ten fingers and glue them to your throat. Now inhale through your nose while bringing your elbows up beside your ears, to a count of six. Next exhale through your mouth while lowering your elbows and using your interlaced fingers to push your head way back. Make the “ha” sound while exhaling to a count of six. We will do two sets of ten.
The instructor tells us to use this breath to set up our whole practice and our whole day afterward. “Clean out every last bit of old air in your lungs. You are only using ten percent of your lung capacity. Your lungs, just like every other muscle in your body, need to be stretched so you can maximize their full capacity,” says the instructor.
Now I’m thinking, for 57 years I’ve only used 10% of my lungs capacity, there’s going to have to be alot of stretching going on in there. My first weeks with pranayama breathing just about killed my neck. It seemed like the first set would never end and the thought of a second set of pushing my neck back to “try to see the wall behind me” just seemed impossible. Nevertheless I would persist and “breathe through the pain and discomfort” and now, 16 weeks later, not only is the pain and discomfort gone, but I actually CAN see the wall behind me.
As I leave the studio carrying my soggy heavy mat, I sometimes feel I’m carrying my yoga experience out to the car and into life with me. Smug in the fact that pranayama breathing has set up my day, I place my mat in the backseat, much as used to place my children in a car seat, and drive away ready and waiting for whatever awaits me in the next twenty three and a half hours.
My pranayama breathing has surfaced in the way I paint a room, although I never knew it. When I begin to paint a room, I completely empty it of furniture and wash the wood floor until it shines. Just the look of the floor and the empty room has me running for my ladder and paint cans. Whenever I tell anyone this, their inevitable response is “Why would you wash the floor BEFORE you paint?” Clearly they don’t get pranayama breathing.
Recently I read somewhere everything starts with a clean canvas. Whether it’s a painting, a story, a song, or maybe just a new paint job for the living room, it all starts from nothing. I used to freeze at the thought of facing a blank page, worried whatever I’d write wouldn’t be good enough. In much the same way I’d freeze at the immense choice of paint colors in Home Depot, give up and go home thinking, “What if I painted it a god-awful color and even my husband hated it?”
The thought of starting with nothing, other than what was in my own mind and heart, was absolutely paralyzing. I couldn’t get passed the fact it might not be “good enough”. Although I did start both projects before I started the yoga, it was with much anxiety and trepidation. Over time, the true meaning of pranayama breathing sunk in, occupying the space at the base of my neck where the pain and discomfort used to reside. Each day when my head flips back and sees the blank wall behind me, the clean canvas sets up my day with anticipation, instead of anxiety. Who knew pushing your head back twenty times a day, exhaling a great big “ha” sound, could conquer such anxiety and self-doubt?
And so, as another day goes by, I appreciate and respect the power of the breath, and….I have written.
January 20th, 2011 I once wrote about Julie Chen on The Talk impressing me by the things she shares about her marriage. Then, yesterday, watching an episode I DVR’d, she knocks one out of the ballpark again.
The question she threw out to the other four hosts was: What would you say is the one thing that makes your marriage as successful as it is? Out of all five hosts, once again it was Julie’s answer that got me to stand up and say “YES!”. Her answer? One word. Intention. She said, “No matter how bad it is, how bad her husband hurts or upsets her, she KNOWS beyond the shadow of a doubt, his intention was always good. Leah Remini added that this is true in any relationship – good friendships and all family relationships as well. She said, “When the chips are down, when it’s as bad as it’s ever gonna get, believing the intention was never bad or negative or meant to hurt, is what causes the relationship to weather anything.”
I find this so true in my own marriage. There are times my husband does something that hurts me or makes me sad. My first reaction is, of course, “How could you do that to me?”. Then, once I really stop and ask myself, “Do I really think he intended to do that to me?” and of course, my answer is no, the anger I feel quickly abates. Once I say in my mind or out loud – (because sometimes I do say right to him “I KNOW you didn’t set out to do that to me, but it still hurts inside”) I am immediately brought down from that level of extreme anger and can most times discuss the issue until we both feel better. “The Talk” was the perfect name for this show because it’s “the talk” that relieves the stress of an argument and moves the relationship forward.
I had written earlier about intention in my blog, Julie validates me again. Remember on myspace they used to ask you who you wish you could meet? Definitely Julie. I’m just amazed that such a high profile person could be so unaffected by the the public opinion and have such a clear outlook on life and solid values that have carried her through her career. Another words, she has her head screwed on right. Hmmmm…maybe, just maybe there’s a chance I do too. I can always hope.
And so, as another day goes by, for me, another hero rises to the top, and….I have written.
January 19th, 2011 “Sometimes we have a period that looks like a setback, but in reality that time is like a place of preparation.” (Listening Beneath the Noise, Anne LeClaire)
Yesterday I was having a conversation with my friend before yoga class. We were saying that you’d think after practicing for 16 weeks regularly now, we’d be physical dynamos with unlimited energy, yet we have days where we still come home physically exhausted and even our shower is too much work. We have days where we can’t balance on one foot if our life depended on it. Then, almost without warning, our body changes and suddenly we have more energy than we can almost contain and we can hang in standing bow pose for the entire 60 seconds. Both of us have seen this almost as a pattern over the last 4 months of practice.
Could it really be that our time of setback was really a time of preparation? A time where our body needed to stop and regroup for it’s next growth period? So often we see growth as a continual forward movement, but really, what on this earth can keep growing continually without stopping for food, rest, and re-energization along the way?
In both yoga and life it’s comforting to learn that setbacks are not failure. In our relationships a setback is not loss of trust. In all our important relationships we will hurt each other and let each other down from time to time. Promising someone “I will never hurt you or let you down” is like promising them winter will never come again. Then we might ask, what is trust? Trust is promising them that despite hurting each other and letting each other down, you will never leave each other. Real trust is walking through the muck of hurts and let downs and STILL being there. These are times of setbacks. Times to regroup and prepare for the relationship to move to the next level. Without them, the bond of real trust cannot be formed.
“Anger and bitterness are emotional termites…they eat into your very existence leaving no room for love or beauty.” Terry MacMillan
Replacing anger and bitterness with the concept of setbacks when we are wronged, is by far no easy task, but the ah..ha moment comes when we do.
And so, as another day goes by, I will guard against termites, and….I have written.
January 18th, 2011 Yesterday morning I was sitting quietly having my tea while the rest of the house slept. I was beginning to pray fervently about some things weighing on my mind with loved ones. I started my usual "Oh please God…" when He suddenly stopped my prayer, and almost like He was standing in front of me, said as plain as day in my head, "Linda! You have to be still in me and let me do my work. A loved one has asked you to be still in them and let them do their work, and so now you must be still in both of us." This was amazing – I think I can recall years ago it happening to me once before. The voice was so clear and thought-stopping, it just had to be God intervening, because I'm not smart enough to come up with such startling revelations on my own – especially at 7 am.
Later on that day I received an email for a writing workshop to be held here on the cape in March. The title intrigued me, so I read further into the message. The workshop, entitled The Fire Within, was to be given by award winning author, Anne LeClaire. She was our speaker at our October Writer's Night Out, and I remember being very moved by her words that night. I had never read any of her books, so I immediately searched my kindle. She has eight novels and the newest one is a personal memoir titled "Listening Beneath the Noise". It is her personal journey through silence. Nineteen years ago she decided two Mondays a month would be her silent days. She would not talk, text, or email anyone, including her husband and this caused a bit of discord between them. I bought the book and read the whole thing yesterday. It was so engrossing it would not leave me alone. I paused to eat and take a brief walk, but jumped right back into my chair with the book.
I usually don't behave this way with a book. I pick it up when nothing else is going on and I like to savor and think about the characters for the few days it takes me to read it. Not so with this book. Now one might say, "Yes, I have done that with a really good book before. " And so have I, but those books were always fiction and always a mystery with a myriad of unanswered questions. This was a memoir of a woman not talking, a book I expected would take me a week or so to read because it just wouldn't have that "I gotta see what happens next" pull.
Well, I was sure surprised. My first thought before I began the book was "How was she going to write a whole book just about silence?" (As a beginning writer, the thought of writing 100,000 words about anything, much less silence, is daunting.) As I began to read, Anne's writing style and the way she conveys ideas touched me just as deeply as her presentation at our dinner that night. You cannot believe how much there is in silence that touches our lives.
Living alone, on the Cape, for three days a week, a silent day is not uncommon or out of reach for me, but I never stopped to think about the proverbial "pot of gold" sitting untouched in these silent cape winter days. That morning I was forced to sit and pray in silence because we had guests for the holiday weekend and people were sound asleep in every room, including the TV/family room. I usually have Internet radio on when I sit in my chair in my serenity room to chat with God. Most days He sits in the rocking chair opposite me and we commiserate on my life and the state of the world as the music plays. ( I commiserate and He listens.) But today, in the dead silence, He didn't let me get three words out. He didn't sit in the rocking chair. He stood there, said His piece, then went away, leaving ME in the silence. I was a bit unnerved being alone in it. God let me struggle for awhile, then sent me the email, the workshop, the person, and the book, about of all things, SILENCE. Just the title of the book takes my breath away, and tells you what kind of talent this author possess to pack such a wallop in just the title.
Listening Beneath the Noise. Wow.
God left me, but He left me to spend an amazing day with an amazing woman. Needless to say, I immediately signed up to take the workshop, because this "fire within" to use my words burns daily, and there is no better master at "using words" to learn from than Anne LeClaire.
And so, as another day goes by, I have 7 more novels to read, the gold found in silence to discover, and….I have written.
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