The Stillness of the Bayou

 

 

It’s not just the Silence I am drawn to…  It is the Stillness.

Here I sit at the bayou’s edge.  I’m under the shade of an oak tree, feeling the gentle, slow breeze on my face.

The marsh grass slowly moves in the breeze - a gentle, rhythmic motion.

The crickets sing softly in the background - a subtle drowning song.

There is no other sound, no other movement in this space of Mother Earth.

It is still.  I am still.  We are still together.

And in the stillness I hear a gentle movement of a distant fish turning in the water – just one fish – just one movement.

I hear the buzz of a fly – just one, and then it’s gone.

I feel uplifted here.  All that I need to sustain me is here – the calm, peaceful, stillness.

A bird caws in the background – just once.

The breeze, the stillness - it’s dreamy.  I am one with my surroundings – still, peace, calm, breathing – a harmonious moment with all that is.

I’ve been here before – somehow, somewhere.  It’s very familiar to me – comforting.

I am filled with emotion – overflowing emotion.  “I love it here.  I want to be here always.  I want to be like this always.”

Ah….  It is the stillness of the clear reflective pool that is inside of me.  It is me.

The breeze picks up.  Refreshing, yet gentle.  It is the only movement.  I think to the wind “Stirring things up a little are you?  What is your message?”

Somehow, dear one, you lost your practice of being here. 

“I know.”

Remember how good it feels? 

“Thank you.” 

Just be.

I am committed.  I’ve said it before, but I mean it now.  I am committed to come here to my calm, still, center at least once a day. 

Without a routine of taking vitamins and eating right, I have low energy.  Without a practice of working out physically, I become sluggish and soft.  Without the routine and practice of going within, being one with all that is, I lose my alignment, my balance, my centering, and my knowing.

I am committed.  I am still.  I am one with God.  I am one.