We walked in silence, but my mind was far from quiet.
It is tough to calm the brain when there is so much to think about: David left for camp, Anne’s aunt passed away, the back deck is being renovated, Katya is away in Europe, Ben needs the van to get to work, the van needs a new muffler, is it time for a new vehicle?, I need to get taxes done!, what’s for dinner….
We walked in silence, but the forest was far from quiet.
The noises were deafening: Cardinals were chirping, Robins were calling each other, squirrels were claiming their territory, the leaves were brushing against each other in the wind, the blue jays squawked at each other, the frogs sang….
We walked in silence, but my body was far from quiet.
The aches and pains ran amok: my liver panged, my legs ached, my achilles tendons tugged, and my phantom spleen protested the pace.
“It looks like it’s going to be a beautiful day, Kevin.” I stated.
We walked in silence.
What was going on in Kevin’s head? Was it equally busy? How many conversations were locked up there too? Was it just as hard for Kevin to calm his brain as it was to calm mine?
We walked and walked and thought and thought. Jazz darted about – was she actually smiling? It certainly looked like it. Was she just as busy thinking as we were – or was she simply enjoying the moment? Oh, to be a dog – to be simple – to just enjoy. She walked beside Kevin and I – content to be. At least I think.
Funny how a busy brain can be cloaked by such a still cloth to fool the viewer into believing it is calm. There is no evidence to reveal such swift currents of thought. Still waters indeed run deep. And today – it seemed my mind was flooded with thoughts, memories, and ideas. They swirled, they ebbed, and they flowed.
“Slow it down, Stacey. Simplify. Pace yourself.”
We may walk in silence – but reflect noisily. We may walk in silence – but commune in partnership. We may walk in silence – but are never alone, never still, never really silent.