There's something to be said for moments of stillness. Moments of silence. Not silence in the world around us, but within us. Even when we are still, the world keeps doing its' thing.
Take the forest for example. It is always full of life, sounds and smells. Yet, we barely stop to notice. The soothing whisper of the wind through the trees. The bubble of a creek as water trickles into it from unknown sources. A chorus of birds, singing their songs. Not outdoing one another, but harmonising their individual sounds to create the most beautiful of songs. The warmth of the sun on our backs. And at the very precipice, a view, as clear as crystal, that stretches, undisturbed, as far as the eye can see.
Each of these things creates an atmosphere that allows stillness and silence, but also doesn't interfere with the natural balance. It is humbling to see trees, plants and other vegetation that have seen so many things. They've seen and endured the terror of bushfires. The thirst that comes with drought. The new day that comes with rain, a fresh start. But also flood, the thing that was a saviour, turned into a threat. The strength of nature is astounding.
There is a comfort in knowing these things. That even after thousands of years, through abundance and famine, the forest remains strong.
We should aspire to be like these great, ancient Bunya Pines. To ground ourselves so solidly, nothing can shake us. Just as the forest weathers its' storms, let us too weather our storms. And if we fail or stumble? The forest will be here to ground us and remind us of the strength it holds. The strength we can possess if we choose to.
I used to find stillness and silence scary. Intimidating. Now, I find it comforting, for I know, when I am still and silent; I experience and notice more than I ever do with acting or speaking.
It sounds cliche' but when you finally understand, and I mean really understand, the power of silence, well, it's life changing.