"There is a voice that doesn’t use words. Listen." - Rumi
I’m away from home this week. Still in the beautiful Colorado Rocky Mountains, but attending a conference in at a resort/conference center in northern Colorado.
When I returned to my cozy ‘home away from home’ (a nice little condo with a comfy bed and kitchen so I can have my morning tea) last night, the only word that came to mind about how I felt was ‘scrambled’. Unlike my life at home, attending the conference puts me in the position of being with people (several hundred) the entire day. You know, breakfast at one of the round tables so big that you have to yell across the table to meet those you are dining with; walking with the crowd from session to session; listening to others speak. Then on to lunch, eating while trying to listen to a fascinating and inspiring speaker. More afternoon sessions, then, finally the opening gala reception with yet more food and great (though loud) music.
Years ago I thrived (or thought that I did) on such events and the hustle, bustle and busyness of life. In no way do I want to make anyone wrong for living that life. And, what is so clear to me after a good night’s sleep, is that it’s no longer my life. If you know me or have been reading these posts over the past year, you may be thinking ‘well, duh, yeah Cindy, no way that’s your life’ (I had the same thought as the light bulb slowly began to glow) but I realized at a deep level that busyness muffles the voice that ‘doesn’t use words’.
Without that voice I am ‘scrambled’. I need my inner compass and whatever time or practice it takes each day to find it. With that awareness and giving myself extra time this morning to be quiet and listen, I can prepare differently and walk back into the conference environment with clarity about why I’m here and what I want to learn to take back to my community with me. Perhaps I won’t attend as many sessions, but I trust that I’ll make the right connections to leave with information, insights and connections to answer the questions I came with. That trust moves me from scrambled to peaceful and ready to navigate the noise of the day.
Reflection for the Week: How do you listen to the voice that doesn’t use words?