What to Do with Silence ...
Ruminations on finding the light in the dark times
What to do with silence? Shall it depress or invigorate? Do I learn or forget? Imagine or fall into darkness? Shall I daydream or desire? Shall I consume or create?
I’m five weeks into my knee replacement. I’m doing fine now, but it’s been a rocky road. I was cruising along surprisingly well when an infection crushed me [which thankfully was just in the incision, not the joint].
It was the strangest thing … there were a couple of days that I thought it looked suspicious, then suddenly I felt like I had the flu and COVID and strep and depression all at once, and to add to the drama, a few late May blizzards squalled through the valley.
Looking back, I wonder if this month of downtime hasn’t been some of the most mentally challenging in many years because I couldn’t run away from my emotions and brain fog by hiking, biking, paddling, or skiing through my beloved forests. No wonder people get addicted to Oxy.
I’ll spare you any further details as the sun is now shining, the drugs are gone, and I’m about to go on the first campout of the summer.
The following are some reflections during this dark time sprinkled with moments of joy – the most profound of which was an evening spent with an old friend taking a walk on the Snake River Dike before listening to the gracious U.S. Poet Laureate Ada Limón read a dozen of her poems at our local theatre.
Does Ada’s brilliance lessen ours or ignite it by making us feel seen?
A.I. Will Never ... AI will never have brainfog, or PMS, or be sexually harrassed, or have a good friend die too soon, or be distracted by worrying that the kids are fed and wearing clean clothes that are cool enough but not bougie, or that their young brains are being fried by TikTok and pot, or that their own brain is also frying, or realize that 50% of her countrymen are OK with a misogynistic, corporate crook, Commander in Chief who never takes responsibility for himself and goes against every value she teaches in her home, AI will never have her heart broken, or her body broken, Or wonder if she is enough. but ... AI will never realize that it’s a full moon with Saturn squared to Chiron and be reminded it’s time to step into her creativity. AI will never be distracted by an iridescent hummingbird that reminds her of her mother so she snaps a photo and sends it to her daughter who will know just what she’s thinking. AI will never have a son to watch celebrate winning the State lacrosse tournament under the lights of a football stadium or see a daughter accept a diploma from college. AI will never sit at a long, rowdy family dinner table and debate climate change and gender and whether war is inevitable. AI will never discover her dignity or purpose or her pure and noble heart. AI will never smell “petrichor” even though she’ll know how to spell it.
Help Thriving on a full life I think I handle stress well enough, but too much shortwires my brain. What’s not helpful: Housing insecurity, keeping a 15-year-old safe, pain, a late May blizzard, a City Council brawl, snarled traffic before it’s tourist season, burning the hummingbird syrup and filling my home and lungs with acrid smoke, to many pills to take, turning on the morning news to the Trump trials, overdoeing, overexpecting. What is helpful: A sister who comes running when I call. My sweet Willow pawing my shoulder and kissing my ear. Realigning my circuits with acupuncture mixed with hugs and curious empathy. Another human's touch on my traumatized body. PT. Reiki. Massage. Iridescent hummingbirds swarming the deck. Buttery daffodils standing tall in a May snowstorm. A cardamom sticky bun in a bustling coffee shop Sitting on a bench in the shadow of the Tetons with an old friend while our pups swim A fire engine parade escorting the State lacrosse champions through town. To sleep To heal To hope To write To wonder To give To accept.
Thank you for reading - have a joy-filled weekend!
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