Every year my Buddhist brother-in-law goes on this two week (I think) silent retreat. For two weeks you don't way a word, you spend your days, hours upon hours sitting indian style on a cushion and meditate (meaning clear your head of every thought). You eat in silence. You sleep in silence (but what if you're a sleep talker . . . Phoebe would get booted like the first night. She carries on long conversations in her sleep).
During these two weeks, my brother in law gets lots of mental work done. He works through things and sees the world better and more clearly.
I envy him.
Well, I envy a day of silence.
But the idea of it . . . oh the idea of having time like that . . . seems lovely.
But then I remember that being on a Silence Retreat means I can't talk . . . and then I realize, well, that would be hard.
I may last a day.
Ok, maybe like five hours of silence. I'm a chatty Cathy.
I would be kicked out by day two for sure.
And so when I REALLY think about this I realize that silence is helpful in theory and seems like what I want, but talking, for me, often is really really helps.
I love working through things that are inside of me. Unnameable things that I barely understand that only through talking can take shape and form and become real. And once it's real, I can fix it, laugh at or with it, be shocked by it, or heal it or just look at it like the great mystery it is and either do something about it or, like a good healthy person I am, shove it deep into my mental closet. I've got to have some skeletons in there to make me interesting and complex, right?
That's what happened today as my friend and I did a six hour (and 15.5 mile) hike up to the saddle of Mount Timpanogos. It was long and winding and beautiful and as we hiked, we talked and as we talked the miles literally flew by. I'm telling you, I could have hiked another five hours. My legs might have fallen off, but I think we would have just laughed about it and continued to crawl on.
Trail head . ..
the Sign in book . . . with us . . . signed in . .
.
The view of Utah Valley from the Saddle
The back side view of Timp . . .
And we did it. Check.
It's another late late night. I came back from my hike at 3pm, helped the kids clean the house (yes, best kids ever), mowed the lawn, grocery shopped, and then right when I thought I'd get a minute to sit down, found Phoebe in freak out mode. She needed to move in with a van load of stuff, not to mention go to target and get the last minute utter essentials (like toilet paper) before she went to St. George with her boyfriend for the long weekend.
I blinked twice and took a deep breath.
I of course had no idea bout any of this. Typical. So instead of making my yummy healthy meal for my starved youngest, I threw everyone in the car with the fasted load up in history.
We raced down and grabbed dinner at In and Out (only it wasn't fast . .. 25 minutes . . . everyone had our idea), literally ran through throwing things in the cart, drove too fast down to Provo, ran (and I mean ran) Phoebe's close and suitcases, and million odds and ends up to her apartment, and then, all of us sweating, jumped back into the car to meet John (who had picked up our nephew and his wife from the airport) so I could jump into the car with him and spend an hour with him while we picked up another nephew from the airport.
Does reading that make you tired?
Because this is pretty typical of my life. It's fast paced on slow days, it's INSANE on normal days, and listen, don't blink because you'll miss me on busy days.
But I survive and in fact thrive because I take this moments or in todays case, hours, to feed and fill up my well with friends. I could do the other ten thousand things I needed to today with a smile on my face because I had six hours of someone validating me, laughing with me, and helping me work through the ugly, the hard, the confusing, and the scary in my life.
I may not get weeks of silence, but a few hours of chatting with a friend, it's just as good.
On day three of my Journey of Universe and Self Discover, I've realized: friends are the glue that holds our universes together. I am so grateful for all the friends in my life. You make it not only good, but usually amazing, funny, delicious, interesting, open my mind to things I would never think, see or fee, and most of all, make me feel like I am worth knowing and listening to. This journey is so so fun and so good because we're taking it together.
So, hike a mountain, go for a bike ride, walk around the block, eat an ice cream cone, or just sit and laugh together. It doesn't really matter what you do with good friends, as long as you do it together. And while you're at it, tell them you how grateful you are for them. Share the love. And if there are people new to your neighborhood or work or place you call yours, invite them into your circle. Invite them into your life. There is always room for more. The universe is always expanding . . . why not fill it with friends.
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