Writings of Recovery

Silence is the invitation.

Silent night. Holy night.

The invitation of silence that creates the space to welcome the sacred, the holy.

The absence of clatter, chatter, prattle, babble, blather, and yammer. The absence of clamor, hubbub, racket, din, and buzz. Just writing these words causes my jaw to tighten, my ears to fatigue, and my hand to feel heavy.

But silence. Sweet silence. The quiet. The stillness. The hush. Calm washes over my body and soul. Tranquility and peace round out the jagged edges . Everything goes down a notch. Or ten.

This is where everything of this world falls dim. A vacuum. A space where anything can happen, or nothing. A spark of inspiration. A realisation. A sense of being aligned with a Higher Power or a deeper awareness of where I am off the mark.

Silence is the place to just be. What a lovely state of body, mind, and spirit.

True silence is hard to find. There is always something vying for my attention. Frogs croaking. Leaves rustling. The buzz of electric appliances in the kitchen. A car in the distance.

Still, the practice of sitting still and actively seeking silence, welcoming the sacred of morning,noon, and night, is worth pursuing for myself and others greater good.