Silence. After another crazy day in my shoes, there is finally silence. I can finally hear by own heartbeat, I can hear the quiet hum of the cars flying by on the freeway just a little ways away, I can hear the distant laughter of someone walking along the parkway, I can find my center again. Silence. Ahhh. So nice….
It’s amazing the little things one can pick up on after a “loud,” busy day ends. I live smack in the middle of the concrete jungle…I don’t know how this is possible, but I can hear crickets chirping outside. What? I know, that's just plain crazy. Right? But they are there; I can hear them. I can hear the leaves rustling in the wind. How is it possible to hear such a quiet thing when there are cars driving 80 miles an hour down the freeway just feet away? How is it that these little sounds can find their way into my silence? I shouldn’t be able to hear them, but I can. These little hidden treasures bring back such beautiful memories of childhood. As much as I’ve said I disliked living where I did – being so far away from a shopping mall – these little things that were such a huge part of my being are so irreplaceable and just so beautiful. Growing up where I did, I never had to have a “loud” day to be able to hear these things – they were just always there. You could always hear them. A beautiful, quiet soundtrack to life; there were no loud days. There was nothing blocking the beautiful silence from finding its way to me.
Sometimes I wonder why I am where I am. Some days I love the hustle and bustle. Some days I miss the smell of fresh cut hay swirling around me in the breeze and wish I was anywhere but here, but I am a firm believer in the fact that I am where I am because that’s where I am supposed to be. God wouldn’t put me somewhere that I wasn’t supposed to be. Would He? Sometimes I miss that quiet soundtrack to life and question what I am doing, where I am going. I realize that no one really knows 100% what their purpose in life is. I don’t think, anyways, but it’s just been a lot harder for me the past year to be confident in what I am doing. There’s been too much tragedy, too many close calls, too many heartbreaks. I’m not as quick to put it all out there and “let it roll” as I was before – as I want to do again. To be honest, I’m afraid if I do this I will miss out on things. I feel like I have already missed out on things. Things I can never get back; things I wish I could get back.
I feel guilty. I feel guilty for going out and pursuing the beautiful things in life instead of going home every weekend to spend time with my mom, with my grandparents. I feel guilty for enjoying that day when mom was undergoing her test. I feel guilty for being so selfish and not wanting to accept the truth that I didn’t do what I should have done or said what I should have said. I feel really guilty.
Guilt is such an ugly emotion. It makes me feel dark and cold. I don’t like that. I like to feel bright and sunny. Why do I feel so damn guilty? I should trust in the fact that my mom is where she is supposed to be. God has made sure she is in the right place, even if I can’t understand that the right place isn’t here. I need to let the ugliness go, accept this reality, and find the beauty – let the silence back into my life. I know it’s what my mom would tell me to do.
