I spend a lot of time alone and silent

In some ways, I am frequently on retreat. A housebound, domestic retreat that challenges my spiritual and mental strength every day. Occasionally, my daughter goes away for a few days, or longer sometimes, and I can spend days without speaking to another human soul. At times like these, especially, the realms of birds and trees and tiny creatures comfort me — I’m so grateful to live in a light-filled, serene place with a spacious balcony and a long, leafy view.

As my cognitive impairment means music or radio are disturbing, silence has become my friend.

When I first began blogging about life post-stroke, I mentioned choices and responsibilities. And one of my perpetual choices is to feel calm and peaceful and in the moment: present. To sit quietly with whatever challenges might arise, and allow the emotional charge to seep out of them. To swap the possibility of boredom or frustration or despair for the possibility of insight and peacefulness.

This is another gift I’ve been granted: the time and stillness and slowness that allows such mindful practice in daily life.

My morning walks are generally the only time I spend outside my apartment. Sometimes they take me to the local shops or past the mailbox, if there are things I need to do. But my favourite walks are those that have no purpose other than exercise and delight.

Many people in my suburb long ago planted moraya bushes or hedges, and in spring the perfume from their tiny star-shaped blossoms is intoxicating. They have inspired today’s haiku.

 

divine moraya’s
star creamy perfume, heady
in cool morning light

 

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3 Responses to I spend a lot of time alone and silent

  1. Gabriel Farago says:

    Good morning, Desney
    I’ve enjoyed your inspirational thoughts you posted this morning. There’s nothing wrong with alone and silent. It’s violent crowds and senseless noise we should fear.
    Also, I can relate to your sense of wonder, love of nature, and attention to detail reflected in your haiku. That’s how I feel when I stroll through our garden here in Leura; rejoicing in the miracle of Spring.
    Have a wonderful day.
    Gabriel

  2. Laura Mooney says:

    It’s so true. For most of us, silence is severely lacking in our lives, and the possibilities for imaginings or just quiet reflection that it holds. And yet I can’t help but wonder if there mightn’t be some music that would suit your current state of mind – at least for a little while – sometimes. A quiet solo instrument perhaps? – I’m going through my music and plan to bring a few things you could try if you wish to – but I’m happy for you to reject them too.

  3. Desney King says:

    What a lovely thought, Laura – and a great idea. I’m always open to possibilities, and you know a lot more about music than I do. Thank you!

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