What I Have learned Were And Are The Best Of Times in StuffScottWrote

  • June 18, 2022, 3:51 p.m.
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  • Public

I have a memory of lying on a blanket under a window with the sun pouring down on me making me blissfully happy - as a child of perhaps 4. My earliest memory.

Those times years ago when I would lay with my dog and just feel the dog with me, silently. Opening my senses to that animal and being with it.

Or much the same with a lover. BEING with her, not touching. FEELING the lights around our bodies touching and feeling her SILENTLY lovingly with all my senses.

Times in the mornings or late at night when I sit in silence and all thought fades away filled with blissful silence.

So many times I thought the best of times would be action times of noise and activity but it was the opposite.

Those best of times were and are of SILENCE inside and outside me. FEELING so much of what the silence said so joyfully loud it could bring tears of joyful bliss to me.

I remember as a child, lying on the grassy warm sunlit bank of a creek listening to the water chortle over rocks. The weight of my world and worries carried away with the sound of the water. Blissfully a part of the flowing water near me.

Those times encountering an animal. Perhaps a rabbit or squirrel in my yard. Finding food for it and sharing it with it. So many times I QUIETLY gave food to squirrels that would come to my porch and smile softly as they warily took the food from my hand. There was a joyfulness to it because I let my mind become void but joined with the animal, for a moment.

There have been times when my female conure bird has fallen asleep on my hand under my chin. With great self discipline I have kept my hand still and my chin from falling. There baby girl. Sleep in my protection, for a few moments connected to my slow beating heart with your fast. I dare not move to disturb such simple joyful moments.

I remember winter days out walking, the snow falling on me. The crunching of my feet on the new-fallen snow. The faint bite of the snow and cold on my face. The light dancing of sound of the flakes landing on the hood of my coat. I was the snow falling. I was the cold. I was the warm fog of breath leaving me. I was the sound of my footsteps in the snow. I could have felt and been that for eternity. Like so many such moments in my life.

There were years when I was a long-distance runner. After the feelings of exertion and mild pain; of breathing that seemed off and not connected, everything came together and I was the sound of my feet on the pavement. I was the breath going in and out of my lungs. I WAS my lungs held up by my legs and I was the sweat slowly running off my body like rain. And sometimes I RAN through rain and I became the rain. I flowed up to the clouds with the rain as the wonderful machine I was, ran and ran and ran so weightless … weightless as my breath and the rain and sweat flowing off my body, that wonderful vibrant machine.

The BEST of times were not drunk or stoned screaming to loud music or driving intoxicated like a suicide bent on taking the world with me.

No.

The BEST of times were of silence inside, and out.
The BEST of times were often connecting with a loved human a loved animal or some anonymous living being near me.
In Silence without thought
Aware of the joy
Aware of the silence inside
filled with gratitude for it
and so often
So blissfully,
simply filled with …silence …and Emptiness.

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Last updated June 18, 2022


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