Seeing Through the Shimmering Silence

This morning was one of those mornings when everything I touched failed. I hadn't been up for long before the song "Wrecking Ball" started replaying in my head! At least that gave me a chuckle. My fails actually began last night when I decided to put some finishing touches on this week's newsletter; somehow in an instant I managed to delete the entire writing. 🤷‍♀️ I guess I was meant to begin again.

Grief is a beast all its own. Sometimes it rears its head drenched in the pains of sorrow; sometimes it passes by unremarkable yet dreadfully slow. Rarely does it disappear when you wish it would.

The months of January and February were a bust for me. It feels like my new year began this March.

To mark my new year, I've chosen a single word to focus on over the coming months: see. A word I can keep nearby as a daily reminder to slow down, to simplify, to see the details around me that have been slipping by.

This seeing requires the use of more than my eyes. In fact, sometimes it requires not using my eyes at all. It requires a gentle listening, a soft touching, a deep inhaling. Closing my eyes to focus on my other senses has helped me develop a richer, clearer vision.

It's a goal in process. To help with this seeing, I've been adding in more silence, purposefully removing more distraction.