Silence Isn’t Silent

We have friends with a lakehouse. We were friends long before the lakehouse by the way. Recently they offered me a gift, “Come stay by yourself at the lakehouse for a few days before our families gather here.”

I could not resist. I crave quiet. I enjoy solitude. I think better, relax better, write better, pray better in the quiet.

As I packed up for my days alone, a tiny bit of anxiety emerged. What if I didn’t like silence as much as I thought? What if I’m not as enjoyable to be with as I think I am?

I reasoned with myself, that is the point of the spiritual discipline, to stick it out even when it isn’t comfortable.

I arrived last night. Temps are in the 70’s. I sat staring at the lake all evening; watched the sunset in pinks and blues. Just looking at a waterline is reported to reduce stress. I believe it.

This morning, I’m back to staring but also listening. Silence isn’t silent. I hear:

Birds singing all kinds of songs with a duck chiming in at awkward times.

Wind

 

 

Hummingbirds gripe at each other as they fly.

Fishermen way down on the water, talking softly as they fish.

A woodpecker.

Squirrels arguing.

And this is funny, the only neighbor in the near vacinity, either learning to play the violin or listening to a cd of someone learning to play the violin. And I am struck by my ability to be annoyed by the one person within my hearing range.

Today’s  revelation: silence isn’t silent. It is layer after layer of God’s created ones doing their thing-singing, arguing, talking, playing the violin badly. Creation, noise, and in it and through it, God.

I’m blessed today to be able to listen for a change.

And my favorite sound, the gripey hummingbirds. Who knew?