Now, here it is Monday and I’m back in balance—that is until the end of the week when we go to Vermont for a few days and then come home to July 4th celebrations. My hum-drum and yet lively life, always looking for silence, solitude and simplicity—but not too much of it. Very grateful.
I’ve taken a little respite from posting. The morning after the evening I arrived home from Scotland, I drove to Connecticut to attend the funeral of a distant, but close member on my dad’s side of the family. Three hours down and three hours back. Sometimes it was bumper to bumper on the Merritt, other times 70MPH was an option. I stayed awake and sooo glad I made the effort, but the next two days I took it easy, sitting in the silence and knitting.
Now, here it is Monday and I’m back in balance—that is until the end of the week when we go to Vermont for a few days and then come home to July 4th celebrations. My hum-drum and yet lively life, always looking for silence, solitude and simplicity—but not too much of it. Very grateful.
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This has been a different kind of trip. All good but different. I took fewer photos and wasn’t concerned by the lack easy internet access on the island. In fact, it was refreshing to let go of posting all the time. (If you want to see pictures of Iona you just need to go back to June 2013-15.) What else was different? Although I did a great deal of walking, I didn’t feel drawn to return to the usual hiking destinations on the island. What surprises me most as I sit her at the Glasgow airport is that I had less desire to write. Why, I wonder? Because I didn’t have anything to say. I was happy to BE, whether walking, knitting, sitting or eating. For the week I lived among the thin space of Iona. That sense of being is still with me at the airport. Amidst the noise and complexity I am in solitude. My mind isn’t taking in all the activity. Hmm, wonder if I can carry this home with me. It took an eternity to post these pictures from the quiet garden at the Hotel Columba. Enjoy the silence, solitude and simplicity. Here I sit on my very favorite bench watching the ferry travel back and forth from Iona to Fionnphort. A marvelous spot to knit, write and better still, to BE. My companions, the sheep, know how to do just that. As I sit here, they are teaching me about silence, solitude and simplicity. Some barely move for minutes on end; one scratches his back on a rock; others graze about. Oops, one just coughed, but has now gone back to sleep. I’m quite sure that my sheep don’t think about silence, solitude and simplicity; they embody it. Of course they don’t have a thinking kind of human brain, nor do they have that unique human ability to laugh, both of which get in my way of BEING in the NOW. These sheep seem content to stay still until some need of nature arises in their bodies. They may not be able to teach me to be still, but their way is worth pondering. Their stillness is meditative. They remind me of the mystics who sit quietly in the presence of God. They are in the ‘thin space’. (Internet is especially slow on the island this evening, so no slideshow is available. We have heard carpe diem, the power of NOW, one day at a time. But to practice living that way is a challenge. To begin with, we forget and get wrapped up in our own agenda. My tendency is to think and plan ahead; others dwell on regrets; some embrace both. This morning as I began packing the car for our week long trip to Pennsylvania,I made a conscious decision to live one day at a time, knowing that the next week will offer little silence, solitude or simplicity-- a week of festivities with family, the culmination being our grandson’s high school graduation. All good, very good, but how special it will be if we all can enjoy each moment, each event, each meal, each dishwasher load, each walk, each conversation, each good night’s sleep. The more I am conscious of that possibility, the more I’ll share it with others, and the more I’ll notice little moments of silence, solitude, and simplicity. Again and again I learn that the best way to have time in my day for silence, solitude and simplicity is to complete a household task first. Soooo boring, so true. This morning I divvied up a shelf of books: a bag for my daughter’s yard sale, a bag to give to some minister friends, and the final third back on the shelf, either to read or just keep for a while. How do we keep silence, solitude and simplicity in this crazy world. I hate to frame it that way—crazy—but that’s the way it feels, even to someone like me, privileged, free of tragedies and full of good health, family, friends and church. It behooves those of us ‘lucky’ ones to stand by and walk with those experiencing difficulties. It has to do with balance. When things are tough we become stuck at the bottom of the seesaw; we need others to get us moving so we can be in balance, more up and down with ease, and at times soar to the top. I mention church because the UCC church I attend offers balance and support to everyone who walks through the door. Sometime we need to be lifted up, sometimes we lift up. Regardless, wherever you are on life’s journey, you are welcome here. A church community filled with love offers something different from, or shall I say beyond, what family, friends, and work colleagues can offer. It humbles us as we learn once again that we can’t take all the credit or all the blame for what goes on in our lives. We learn to be on the giving and receiving end of love. We learn to seesaw. The backyard is about back to normal. The backhoe and its kind, competent driver have left, the new septic system is installed and fully functioning, and the lawn is waiting to be graded and seeded. Hopefully that will take place next week. Although this project generated a great deal of activity, calmness prevailed, due in large measure to the caring work crew and the necessity of the job. I am reminded once again that silence and solitude are states of mind, and that even complex activities can be done simply. Don’t expect silence or solitude while putting in a new septic system. And forget about simplicity, especially in our situation. A bulldozer spent today grading a trail up the hill, around the barn to the back yard, where the new state-of-the-art, up-to-code system will be installed. |
Contact me: bobbifisher.mac@mac.com
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