Sitting alone listening to the silence

.… I ponder ….

Today is a day like any other day

Everyday, we rise and hope to fill our lives with new and exciting discoveries.

Each of us has a different vision for what those discoveries are going to be.

In the end, despite what our own individual discoveries turn out to be,

we all have to go into them in pretty much the same way.

We have to get out of bed, gather up our energy and

go to whatever it is we’re going to do in our life that day.

Our future is counting on this commitment of searching.

Some of us have an exact plan on how we’re going to do this; some of us do not.

Those that do not have an exact plan face the greatest difficulty

in their daily life because they have no direction.

How do we find our exact plan?

Is it something we develop while we’re being raised by our parents?

Are teachers or guidance from religious beliefs a part of the influence for our direction?

Is it instinctual to know what we want to do in our adventure to discover our journey?

Is it important to have a need for discovery or is it something told to us that we must do?

These are important and very difficult questions.

These are questions that some of us can’t answer and struggle daily to unravel.

This is the puzzle of our existence.

Just pondering …. while sitting alone listening to the silence. 2015©isadora delavega

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Becca from On Dragonfly Wings with Buttercup Tea hosts Nurturing Thursday to join in click here

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***** “sitting alone listening to the silence” is a line from a “Letter to P’ie Ti” by the 8th century High Tang poet Wang We.

Letter to P’ei Ti This month the weather has been bright and clear,

and I could have crossed the mountains. But I was reluctant to trouble you,

knowing you were deep in the Classics. So I wandered around the mountain,

stayed at Kan-p’ei Temple, ate with the monks, and wandered home again.

Then I went north over the Yüan-pa, under a clear moon.

At night I climbed Hua-tzu Hill, and watched the moonlight on the Yang River’s ripples.

Far-off, lights on the cold mountain glittered then vanished.

A dog in the deep lanes barked like a leopard. The pounding of grain in the night

sounded between strokes of a distant bell. Now I am sitting alone listening to the silence.

I think a lot about the old days, when we made poems together,

climbing the steep tracks by clear streams. We must wait till the trees and grass grow green again,

and, idling in spring hills, we can see fish leap in the light, the gulls soar, the white dew on green moss.

At dawn we will hear the birds call in the fields

. It is not long till then, when you could come wandering with me.

If I did not know your natural sensibility, I would hold back from making even this indirect invitation.

I speak from a deep impulse, but it is not pressing.

From Wang Wei, the mountain man