The Winter Solstice month of December is such a great time to explore silence. The long periods of dark encourage us to come indoors, if we have the privilege to do so, and to cuddle up in a blanket. But then what?
I know that my habits often take me to some kind of sensory input: read a book, listen to a podcast, even just pet and nonsense-talk to my dog. If not specifically meditating, I seldom sit in quiet. But sitting in quiet is precisely what our healing quality this month offers: silence.
This poem by Mary Oliver says and doesn't say all that is needed to feel some of the essence of what I hope for each of us, in exploring silence this month.
As deep as I ever went into the forest I came upon an old stone bench, very, very old, and around it a clearing, and beyond that trees taller and older than I had ever seen.
Such silence.
It really wasn’t so far from a town, but it seemed all the clocks in the world had stopped counting. So it was hard to suppose the usual rules applied.
Sometimes there’s only a hint, a possibility. What’s magical, sometimes, has deeper roots than reason. I hope everyone knows that.
I sat on the bench, waiting for something. An angel, perhaps. Or dancers with the legs of goats.
No, I didn’t see either. But only, I think, because I didn’t stay long enough.
Do check out our programming this month, particularly if you can benefit from some structure and guidance to help you go deeper, and find some silence within. Carol and Sarah are offering a beautiful Winter Solstice experience of relaxation (and quiet), and Liz is offering rejuvenation and reconnection for New Years Day. They can all be found in this month's newsletter.
Love,
EB, Leigh, Rachel & the whole Unfold Team