What does the quiet have to say?

Quite a bit, it turns out.

When I wrote last, I was feeling fiery. And somewhat unsettled.
The questions I was given answer…the ones around reclamation and decadence, got under my skin.

I could feel them leading me. Pulling me toward notions I had only vaguely entertained. Notions that would lead to actions that felt equal parts electrifying and scary. Actions I am clearly still not ready to say out loud lest actually I have to do them.

I do know that part of why I took on this Residency was to stretch. Or, perhaps, be stretched. It is needed. Necessary. And yet, the ways I have stopped myself in the past are here with me now. Resistance has been making itself known as it often does in moments like this. Moments when I am ready, the path laying itself out brick by brick, and steps ready to be taken.
Lately, the resistance has been showing up in the form of busyness. An unwillingness to slow down. Make space for myself to, at the very least, deeply ponder what has been calling to me.

Oddly enough, in an effort to stay in the swirl I went to my little box of questions and pulled one without looking…when I sat down to write, I saw that it read

What does the quiet have to say?

Of course.
Of course that is the question I had to pick.
Ok. Fine. Message received.

The day had ebbed and flowed from sunny to on the edge of a storm and back again. In one of the darker sky moments, I put my computer to the side and stretched out on the couch. I could feel the weight of my being begin to tug at me. Inviting, gently, to surrender. To go under. To go in.

The quiet lives in the space between my hip bones. I have been ignoring it. Not wanting to be in that stillness. Not wanting to be with whatever awaited. But in that moment, I could barely help myself. I slid down deep. Into the dark. Into myself.

A fog gathered around me. Not a haze. Not a distraction. More of a sanctuary creating itself for me.

For some time, I simply rested. My brain had been in gogogo mode for a while and it was incredibly lovely to just settle into myself. After a spell, I began to notice something was being said. Not in words. But in a knowing that pulsed through the space. Through me.
I became even more still, so that I could take it in. Take it with me.

The quiet offered an invitation.
To return.
As a practice of being.
Not to escape.
Or avoid.
But to find renewal.

It offered a reminder.
That becoming is a revolution.
A coming back around to who I am.
Changed from who I had been.

It offered an openness.
Where I could allow myself to be.
As I was.
As I am.
As I will be.

The rain began with heavy drops on the skylights.
Loud and percussive.
The world was quiet no more.
But I could feel the quiet dwelling within.
Still.

I have some thinking to do.
Some possibilities to not simply explore.
But make real and find them a home within my life.

I hope the next time I write, those will be ready to be shared.

With love and fire~
Jo Anna


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