Rocks, millions of years of quiet pulsing from the earth’s core to the surface. Snow as it floats in the cold air to meet the other icy crystals on the ground. Movement of clouds, almost indiscernible in their glacial movement. Leaves of our indoor jungle plants bending and moving to find the sunlight through the windows. Rings of wood on a tree, continuing to grow and expand on a timescale far removed from human pace. The wood wide web and the inaudible communication in the hidden world underground. The neural networks of mycorrhizal fungi exchanges nutrients amongst the connected family of trees in the forest, working in their symbiotic relationship. A hush that takes over after the flick of a match that has ignited a candle. Cool air creates sensation on my arms. My skin as it goes through the phases of healing and regeneration then blisters and pompholyx bursting bubbles of weeping in irritation. Hairs on my skin chilled and turned up on their ends with goosebumps. A bird still and staring while perched on a branch outside the window. Still water from the puddles of melted snow on the ground. My brain as the neurons fire, wire and send messages to me; the silent computer is apparent in only its outwards movements.
Gus as he sleeps soundly, with an imperceptible movement of air through his breath, only sensed by his belly rising and falling. The drying paint on my nature watercolors, as soft hues transform in depth as the water evaporates. My sit bones, sinking into the couch, embraced by the cushion of home. My eyes as they take in the world around me, alert and active. The mountains in the distance, a landscape alive with life yet placid in each moment from afar. Countless books on the shelf, static items of stacked paper, silenced until they come to life with the hands and eyes of a reader.
The unspoken words that live in our heads. The tapestry of thoughts tha weave in and out of my consciousness and my observation of the thoughts as they flit and flutter through my awareness. The silence of my impatience as I struggle to continue with this writing exercise. The quiet of this internal frustration and discomfort in pushing myself to learn in new ways. The calm that rests over me when I acknowledge these feelings and plunge deeper into the self-examination.