I would like to spend the rest of my days in a place so silent - and working at a pace so slow - that I would be able to hear myself living.
~ from The Signature of All Things, by Elizabeth Gilbert
that fairly much sums it up.
delving deeply this past week or so...new moon sorts of noodlements...and i'm pondering the recurring themes of my life, of late:
- a desire for a simple and uncluttered way of being - to continually and systematically pare away the superfluous
- a desire for silence and slowness
- an awareness that my way isn't the typical way (in writing, in parenting, in pretty much every way i can think of)
- an awareness that i'm not always as okay with that (above) as i probably should be, ergo my perennial attempts to be otherwise, despite the fact that i'm not the only one veering off the beaten path
- a desire for retreat
- a restlessness of spirit
i've learned that when i'm feeling this way, it's because i've strayed from my Ideal...that something is uncomfortably out of sync and my poor, belaboured intuition is trying to get my attention. it's attempting to remind me of my Why.
this time around, i think i've been trying to be too much of the wrong thing. nobody has told me i should, but it's a deeply-ingrained pattern for me to think i need to adjust myself to suit how/what i think i ought to be/do.
my default is to assume that i'm doing things wrong.
i find it quite exasperating.
because there's no wrong, there's just the way i do things.
i recently read, and loved, Elizabeth Gilbert's novel - The Signature of All Things.
i wish i could articulate why i loved it so much - but i'm finding that a bit difficult. it certainly helps that the protagonist of the story is atypical -- an extremely clever, not-beautiful woman who devotes her life to studying plants, with a particular love of mosses.
i've long been awe-struck by moss -- and lichen. miniature forests that can slowly, slowly -- achingly slowly -- rebuild entire ecosystems from utter desolation.
they're "resurrection engines".
it gives one hope, don't you think?
in the novel, the main character - Alma - defines time. she observes distinct 'speeds' of time -- Human Time, Geological Time, Divine Time and Moss Time.
moss time comes in somewhere between human and geological time. it describes the unobservable slowness of moss, which appears to be stationary, but isn't. given enough time, she observes, mosses turn boulders into gravel.
i think i could use a little more moss time in my world.
i think i need a a little more moss time in my world.
too often, i'm rushing to get things done and i've no reason to be in such a hurry.
no reason whatsoever.
too often, i'm operating from a perceived state of lack -- lack of time, lack of energy....
it's completely illusory and i've every control over it.
so i'm choosing moss time.
spring is coming.
the earth is waking up and so am i.