Every flood eventually abates. Every fire burns itself out.
It can be quite difficult to believe that the most productive start to a day where one is pressed for every moment is moments spent sitting quietly in meditation, doing nothing particularly at all. Or that the best response in the face of loud and vocal opposition is silence. That battles can actually be won not so much by surrender, but by choosing a course other than fighting.
What has the prevailing philosophy of constant activity, argument, and battle accomplished us? A mind-numbing cacophony of shouting voices growing ever louder. An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. I’ll see your tit and raise you a tat. Brother against brother. A world of bombs and bullets and death-dealing drones. A world where the blind beat the blind and both are buried in a ditch. A world of “us” versus “them”. A human world consuming itself and its planetary home on an altar of consumption. In all our knowledge we never seem to learn, nor in all our progress to actually progress.
There is a time for doing, but there is also a time for not doing. There is a time for speaking, but likely even more time to keep silence. Wisdom will know the difference, but She is a stranger to many if not most of us–an illusive sprite, a legendary wisp, a figment of the imagination of industrialized society. I catch glimpses of Her flitting among the trees, or dancing at the edge of the firelight, teasing me. She whispers in the wind and I must be utterly silent to hear, and find even more silence to comprehend.
Quiet. Deep breaths. Listen to the rain patter on the roof!