I sat alone at my dining table that is technically an ikea desk, facing the third floor view of rooftops and treetops, and ate dinner in silence. It sounds like a sad scene but it's one of the most profound moments I've had recently. Initially, there was silence. Then... I started to hear the sounds outside floating in through the open window. The warm spring breeze rustling the young leaves in old trees. The whoosh of the occasional car on the next block, fast wheels on pavement, piercing the air. The distant grumble of the train nearly a mile away. Airplane engines, transporting people with their own lives and agendas, to their destination at O'Hare. Occasional human voices. Chattering of the squirrels. Bird chirps and wing flutters as they played. Suddenly the ticking clock behind me sounded deafeningly loud. I brought my awareness into my body. The feel of the air drifting in the window and past my arms as it filled the room. I could feel my blood pumping. Slow and nearly imperceptible. The light outside had faded so gradually and suddenly that I didn't realize until I looked around and noticed I was sitting in darkness.
I took another moment to appreciate the stillness and silence. There was no music playing, no tv show on in the background, and it allowed me to notice how much was going on around me.
The theme of these past couple weeks has been "Be still." I have a tendency to fill all my waking moments with plans to distract myself when things get hard, but I've been consciously choosing to do less. I've been sitting with a lot of uncomfortable feelings coming up around unworthiness, jealousy, and judgement. Working through them has paved a path of gratitude for where I am in life. There are a few big trips coming up in the next month that I am looking forward to, but this awe and gratitude for life is found in the day to day, mundane moments, like eating dinner.
