The quiet

I lay down for 20 minutes today {doing nothing at all really, just being still}.

It took me a couple minutes to find still {after moving, shifting, adjusting my legs, stretching}. But I found still and there I stayed.

At first I thought about the clothes dryer {the items beckoning to be put away}.

Then I remembered the library books {due back today, or tomorrow, or yesterday?}

And then thoughts of sipping lemon granita in Italy {I'm not sure where that came from}.

And finally I noticed the quiet {two babies sleeping and no extra appliances buzzing in this house}.

I wondered if this was the sound of silence?

It felt like silence, and sounded like the quietest day I had felt in a long time.

And then I noticed my thoughts begin to slow, and I started sensing {not thinking}.

I noticed the sound of the wind gushing about outside the room {and the sound of leaves journeying across the garden}.

I heard a car approaching {then a car swooshing past, then a car in the distance}

I listened {wondrously} to a solo bird's fleeting song.

And then the wind outside stilled, and all I could hear was the sound my breath.

Gentle soft breaths filling me {long and slow breaths filling me}.

I followed the rhythm of my breath {until I became my breath} and drifted into sleep.

When I woke the day seemed clearer {and my body felt renewed}.

I woke after 20 minutes {but it felt like I'd only been gone for two}.

Elisa xx

{I'm normally good at remembering to breathe and finding little patches of quiet inbetween all the doing and going of the day-to-day, and normally that's enough. But today I woke craving a chance to stop, to slow down. I'm glad I listened to my body, because these 20 minutes were a perfect kind of peace and gentle.}

Do you ever stop to be still during the day? And do you meditate?