Skip to main content

Songs of Stillness

Two weeks ago it felt like the world was ending.

The numbers from New York, which captured me with their stunning speed and the realization that I had left just before the situation became so much worse, grew rapidly each day. It began to dawn on the US that this was going to change everything. The grocery stores were filled with empty shelves. Empty shelves could only indicate that the world was ending.

Until I heard the birds singing.

I was on a run in a park when I heard them. They jolted me out of a reverie thinking about the headlines. Pandemic, economy, toilet paper. I looked around at the space around me in the park. The prairie grass expanded around me even in its dormant winter state. I saw the sky, blue with flecks of white clouds drifting above me. Nature is still in business.

Even though the news is dire and the world we humans have built seems to be falling apart at the seams, buds are appearing in the trees. I see birds now on the roof through my childhood bedroom window that are playing in the rain water.

And when the weather is good, the sun brings people who are cooped up all day, out into its warmth. You see couples walking, children riding bikes and people setting up lawn chairs in their driveways as if to watch a soccer game. Entire families, with children of all ages, are trooping out in the neighborhood to get fresh air and escape the confines of their homes.

But my favorite is when I go out on days the weather isn't as nice. During these times, I relish having to zip my coat and put my hood on. I miss weather I realize with the hood covering part of my gaze. Or at least, having to brave the weather because I have to go to work. Now, I rarely go outside unless its sunny and warm.

There is also a stillness in the neighborhood now. Silence has always reigned in my hometown (meaning the noise in New York has taken quite some getting used to) but the quality of the silence is different.
Everything is still, waiting in place. And with waiting comes anticipation. So I stop to take the stillness and the anticipation. And sometimes, just to listen to the birds.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Love Letter

One of my friends requested that I write a post about love. Now felt like a good a time as any for such a post. Admittedly, this post is extremely personal and I have more than a few misgivings about putting this out for the world to see. I wish that I could write about how I was in a wonderful relationship. My first somewhat real relationship was a whirlwind of emotions but it ended soon after it began. It’s end though allowed me to appreciate the other kinds of love that I am blessed to be surrounded by. These are the wonderful people around me who have come, in all forms and at all times, to lift me up during times of doubt, worry, pain or loneliness.   My class loves potlucks and recently we had another one. Since my kitchen has proved to be a good location for such gatherings in the past, I volunteered to host it again. The day of the potluck turned out to be a very emotionally low day for me. I spent much of it crying and then trying in vain ...

Holding Sand

 My mother once gave me the sound advice to avoid holding tightly onto things (she was specifically talking about people at the time) because if you do, they have a habit of slipping away. She did this through a marvelous metaphor that went like this: If you have sand in your hand and make a fist, the sand begins to fall out and you are left with less sand than you started with. If you gently cup you hand and let the sand come in however, it remains in your hand, and you can perhaps even add more. This metaphor has stuck with me because it helped me with the problem that I was having back then. But I’ve come back to it again and again and slowly been realizing the smaller and more subtle ways that I grab onto things. These things are now always visible or tangible, but they still have important implications. Take meditation. I meditate every day. It’s like brushing my teeth, I simply can’t skip this part of my day. But unlike brushing my teeth, which is a methodical and easy ...

Change of Pace

A view of the Turku archipelago in the frigid weather. PC: Sami All of my time in the past month has been spent with doing one of two things: preparing for next year and making sure I get done with this year. The flurry of activity has been a welcome change to the rather luxuriously slow pace that had been defining my days up until now but in the process, this blog has fallen by the wayside. So what are these many things that have been taking up my time?   1.      Ice skating This is by far not what has occupied most of my time, but I think it has been the most refreshing. Last year I went ice skating only once and, as thrilling as it was, never got around to going again. Plus, the weather last year was so mild that you had to take advantage of cold days when they came to get much time on the ice. This year has been much better and ice skating has been a great excuse to bring people together. It’s this year’s version of chai. Thanks to my mo...