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The Touch Do we live our dreams?
Life and Mothers of All Ages Articles

One dark wintry night, I was outside in the drifts of fallen snow, enjoying the peace, because for one moment I got smart and stopped shoveling snow. In that moment was simply the hush of God’s breathing. There was no humming, ticking, whirring, gurgling, just a pregnant pause. Like the moment a baby is born and the entire world is holding its breath as the baby takes its own first breath. There was that delicious sense of a sacredness that was lightly falling with the snow. My soul felt touched by the white peace of silence. One day, after reading part of the book, “Brain Longevity” by Dr. Dharma Khalsa, I looked into my own life and saw the pace I was keeping and the noise of that rhythm, and knew some things had to go. I also realized that time or life wasn’t going to stop because I did. So I slowed down and enrolled in a local sculpturing class, to give my brain the gift of silence. It is so fun and refreshing to play again! Just like enjoying a warm summer day, playing for hours in the mud, not caring what was formed. The touch was enough. In one of the classes, our instructor suggested we form a piece from a poem about dreams. My first clay sculpture was of a man that didn’t live his dreams and was rather depressing. But by the time it was my chance to share my interpretation, I had squished it and made a new piece, where the dreamer had many choices, and I felt hope revived again. I saw that life really is like that; we have many more choices than we realize…and it all happens inside us, inside the soft inner heart. We can have a noisy life that tires us quickly, or one with peace sandwiched in between the necessary layers of labor. And so, when we tire of the day, or the sculpture of life we are making, we can put it on a shelf for a time (sleep) and come back to it in the morning light and see life and our work with fresh new eyes. And if we pause each day, for just a moment, to hear the hush of God’s breath in nature, we soon come to know that the touch of silence is just what we were looking for in the noise of living. All rights reserved 2004 Karie Clingo www.kitchenalive.com ARTICLES
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