“Silence propagates itself, and the longer talk has been suspended, the more difficult it is to find anything to say”.Samuel Johnson (1709 – 1784)
Out of the silence I am compelled to whisper so that my thoughts are released into the summer air freeing me of the burden of sequestering them in my mind. I have no explanation for my prolonged silence, only that I find there is no voice to describe what is most remarkable. Is it that there are new ways to communicate or can it be that communication has ceased and silence prevails? It is not for lack of effort, for there are a dozen stories half finished discarded and abandon, unkempt thoughts that failed to capture sufficient interest to merit completion. To the contrary my summer has unfettered exploration and discovery beyond my dreams.
Taking time to embrace the fullness of life with enthusiasm and abandon has freed me from the need or the time to reflect on its meaning. In the short time since capturing my last thoughts I have wandered the great wildness and stood at the top of the world only to capture a rainbow in the broken sleet, kneeling before the beauty with lungs and muscles burning from the lack of air. I have sat on the shore watching the surf pound alone for hours as dolphins passed before me in the hundreds only to be obscured by the ebbing sunset. I have spent endless days touring the wine country savoring each taste of bottled sunshine. I enjoyed an incredible evening at the finest restaurant in the world and had the chef provide a personal tour of the kitchen. I have witnessed one of the great sporting events of the nation which started 133 years ago. I have traveled to dozens and dozens of locations to be treated as a respected celebrity of sorts. I have met fascinating people and renewed friendships. I have spent quiet and meaningful time with family. I have been honored to speak at the birthday of a centenarian that I can not recall a time in my life when I did not know her. I have loved without fear and been deeply rewarded.
I find myself humbled to a degree that silence seems to be the appropriate response. I harbor no illusion that my musings finds an audience beyond which can be counted on a single hand. Therefore I see little obligation to be prescriptive in my thoughts for they can be as irregular, incoherent and unkempt as I like. It is a rare moment in life where bliss flows over me like a wave. Content in holding my breath for as long as possible, I am certain I shall surface for air, but until then I shall listen to the silence of my unkempt thoughts.
“Happiness comes of the capacity to feel deeply, to enjoy simply, to think freely, to risk life, to be needed.”
Storm Jameson
