written in woods, last light of summer
Take the time to listen to your own silence without judgment. It may frighten you at first. After all, it is absence. It may make room for sadness you have not been allowing yourself to feel. It may reveal holes in your life's fabric, past or present. It may point you to truths you are not ready to accept. But listen anyway. Be still. Your silence is a fingerprint; it is uniquely yours. And it will begin to fill you up. It will begin to hum quietly, like heat pumping through an old house. You will start to wonder, dream: return. You will start to love your own company so deeply. Your light will become self-evident. You will start to question how you ever ignored it. You may find yourself asking for the opinions of others less often. Your decisions will start to feel solid under your feet. Or you may just find a million questions that you are no rush to answer. All this, in silence.