I've taken a bit of a hiatus from blog land. I needed it. I need it every once in a while. I get tired of hearing my own voice. The same thought patterns reaching the same cadences about the same things. I am the one person I really cannot escape, even when the last hours of night are growing thin and even the silence of sleep eludes me.
What I need is a vacation, but I want to take this vacation without myself.
Okay. Obviously that won't work.
This is how I found myself on a hiatus from blog land.
Have you ever tried to still your own mind, or at least ignore the parts of it that take voice? It isn't easy. The thing that works best for me is to fill it up with other things. My mind's voice is not easy to cover up, like maxing out your ipod at a rock concert, but realizing you can still feel the thump of the speakers in your belly. I read A LOT! I watch A LOT of my favorite DVR'd TV shows, and I do A LOT of listening without entering in to conversations.
Does it work? I don't know. I guess. A little.
Monday morning I had some things to think about. Some things that I knew would not be okay to tune out. I went to my favorite fair weather spot, those bright teal blue Adirondack chairs that sit just outside the doors of my dining room on the slab of broken cement. The spot of our "someday" deck. With the wind whipping my hair and the sun warming my face I was still. I just sat. I sat and I prayed a little and just was... still.
It was interesting because I'd expected my usual barrage of thoughts and voices. The ones I'd grown tired of and had been working so hard to ignore. I was dreading their return and I had braced myself a bit in that anticipation. My ears heard only the rushing wind though, as my mind stayed still. I walked out onto the lawn and did the thing I love to do when arriving back from a long jog down our quiet country road. I sprawled out in the grass and opened my eyes beneath the towering canopy of trees, watching as airy clouds passed through the swaying leaves creating a moving landscape of incredible art. This had the effect it always had. I felt small. I felt the goodness of being small. Not inconsequential, just small.
With my mind still and my heart small I began to hear. It isn't really what He said that is important. It's that I could hear. And I could hear clearly, without all the other stuff, or my own voice trying to compete with His. I could hear and I could listen.
I needed a vacation from myself. I tried to accomplish something of the sort. But on Monday I realized that if I let down all my defenses and just sat still and small refreshment would come in a different form. Refreshment would come in the listening.