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The Art of Slowness

There is something about winter that makes me slow way down: the cold night air, the naked tree branches, the dried flower buds holding on for dear life–all are living proof that winter has arrived and the time to go inward is here.   

There is an art to slowness, although it takes time to master.  My mind still runs a mile a minute with things that need to be done; my body whispers, “What’s the big hurry? Enjoy the slowness, the dormancy of nature, this organic tapestry weaving time and energy together to restore and bloom come spring.”   

And so, there is not much of the garden left.  The cold night air and brisk winds have taken the last of the vineyard leaves down. 

A few flowers remain–red and white Cyclamens decorate my outdoor pots, and red Camellia buds are holding tight to open come February. 

This time of year makes me want to curl up by a warm fire and read a juicy book. 

Or take a little nap under a thick blanket with Amber who waits for me to take her inside.  These little moments say, relax into the day, it is ok. 

One of my favorite past times during the holidays, after I have made breakfast, dropped the kids off at school and spent my morning writing, is to sit in my living room with our Christmas tree all a glow, my candles lit in vigil, to relish the moment of this warm scene.  My home is my church, my sanctuary, my place of refuge. The art of slowness is mastered here.

The Hidden Music


It’s pitch dark, 4 a.m. and I can not sleep.  The silence is rich, rare, treasured.  I love its sound, slowly awakening my heart.  I call silence, The Hidden Music, a song I have loved from the time I was a child, marveling at Mother Nature’s wonders around and about me. 

I listen to the sound of silence.  These words come as an inner cry to the world outside.


searching, wanting, controlling, needing, doubting, praying, dreaming, desiring, manipulating, forcing, grasping, fearing, using, wasting, lying, seeking, moving, believing, holding, imagining, and thinking.  Whatever is left, when you stop, is who you are.  It is silence, pure, real, unnamed, gentle, loving, and filled with serenity.  In this and from this is joy and freedom.*                                         


In silence, I hear the truth, the workings of the heart, the beating of this mysterious world we live.  I fall in love once more with life, its joys, and hold in a silent container, its sufferings. 

 Let us fall in love again
and scatter gold dust all over the world
Let us become a new spring
and feel the breeze drift in the heavens’ scent.
Let us dress the earth in green,
and like the sap of a young tree
let the grace from within sustain us.
Let us carve gems out of our stony hearts
and let them light our path to Love.
The glance of Love is crystal clear
and we are blessed by its light.

 Why are you so afraid of silence,
silence is the root of everything.
If you spiral into its void
a hundred voices will thunder messages
you long to hear
Rumi “Hidden Music”


Hidden Music plays when one’s presence is honored, when nature is cherished and suffering is held with love and understanding.  Where each one of us has their song to sing.