Tag Archives: silence

Frazzled llama & some doodles

My art life is in transition, it seems. I almost closed this blog recently, feeling like I did not produce enough content to keep it going.

This is quite ironic. I am the Scribe, after all, and now I laugh to myself as I remember why people hire me to run their business social media campaigns and to write articles for them. They just do not have the time.

This has been a bit of a struggle, until I realized that the real struggle was my resistance to accepting my own pace. This is precisely what I have decided to do.

Well then, the llama is no longer naked. Next, a little trim here and there, a face and that basket saddle. Sometime earlier this week, I practiced three more tangle patterns.

There are many thoughts on my mind. I could voice an opinion about many things I witness, about the news, about the ridiculous behaviors of humans, about inconsiderate people… the list goes on. I keep coming back to the same conclusion: The trick is to not form an opinion at all. The trick is silence. Live and let live. The trick is to decide if my own actions are at peace with the world… and with me.

Often, I think it is that simple; all of us just paying attention to our individual behaviors and deciding how to act in each instant, asking, “Is this worth doing? How does this affect my neighbors?” and so on.

Sometimes, I am able to stop my thoughts in their tracks and to completely step out of a frustrating situation, even as I stand in the midst of it; even while others stand in the midst of it, foaming at the mouth. After a while, I look back and realize that I do not feel that sense of being sapped of energy for having participated. A lot of our actions are just that, draining.

We learn many things in school. We learn facts. We learn to accumulate knowledge so we can embark on a career, but we do not learn how to communicate and how to listen. Maybe school is not the place for this. Maybe the only way to learn this is by trial and error; through living and stumbling and trying to live a bit better each time we get back up.


Afternoon fire… and silence

There was a fire at a neighbor’s house today. In fact, the fire department is still on the premises as I write this. It is now 3:03 in the afternoon. It all started a bit over an hour ago. I just realize that this is the first time in what seems like months that I pause from my work for a full hour and just sit here, with an empty mind. Until a few minutes ago.

The sun is shining. I do not know the details. I spoke with the homeowner earlier, just moments after he had dialed 911. The look in his eyes was unlike anything I have ever seen. I felt like reaching out and crying. Then I felt incredibly calm and silent. There was nothing I could do.

ps - center

Now, my thoughts are not quite focused on the things we lose in life, as I imagined they might be. Instead, the importance of silence seems to be the message here.

I was thinking about this earlier today. For some reason, at this time in my life, though maybe it is not a matter of timing at all, I seem to be eager to listen more than I am eager to speak.

There have been hints that it should be that way. Today is a hint, somehow. Another hint came when a friend who recently lost someone very close to him was telling me about an especially difficult moment, a few days ago, when he needed to share some thoughts and a person who was present at the time kept cutting in. Not on purpose. We are all clumsy when it comes to listening to others’ pain. But he made a good point when he observed, “I just needed to be heard. I did not need a conversation.”

This is about being, and being is silent. I saw the look in my neighbor’s eyes earlier and I knew he just needed to be in the moment. Alone. The other members of the family soon arrived, one by one. They needed the time alone, together.

We often jokingly say, “You are not the center of the universe, you know!” There is another side to this. When jarring events collapse everything around us, or at least everything as we know it, we are the center. These moments create a sort of suction that draws everything back to us and in the midst of voices, even total chaos, all we hear is silence.

We need this silence. It is the center; the solid ground from where we can take the next step.