Winter \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Seed Catalog Moon<\/p>\n
The quiet of a northern winter night has settled here. \u00a0The temperature, at 15, is 20 degrees higher than Tuesday night, yet still in the direction of cold. \u00a0And cold is the physical equivalent of silence. \u00a0There’s less and less molecular movement as the temperature goes down, in fact the temperature going down is decreased molecular and atomic movement. \u00a0So here we are, cold and at night when human movement, too, is at a minimum.<\/p>\n
The noises come from the computer, small ratcheting noises of a hard disk receiving or transmitting data, my own inner ear–a slight buzzing, my gut–a gurgle, but they are noises that underscore the silence rather than disturb it.<\/p>\n
Just to sit alone now is to meditate, the field around me not so different from my inner one, undisturbed and undisturbing. \u00a0A blankness, a sense of union, of being part of, not distinct from. \u00a0This is why this time draws me, beckons to me to stay. \u00a0To linger.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Winter \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 … Continue reading Quiet<\/span>