On a Saturday afternoon, I sit silently in my bedroom on the soft white carpet. I wiggle my toes between the fibers as I listen carefully to the rain as it lightly pings on my roof. I slowly begin to gaze out my bay window down at the beauty that surrounds me. The vibrant forest and the sounds of the rain ease my mind as I watch the rainwater flow down the street. And I can’t help but feel at peace, at peace with myself and with the world. The sounds surrounding me aren’t filled with worry or fear. Instead, they possess a sign of extraordinary courage, courage so powerful, so great. Because the thunder never seems to mind who it disturbs. Instead, the thunder bangs and roars at whatever volume it deems necessary, no matter the cost to those affected. I envy that kind of freedom; to move about life being whatever one wants and not worrying about the social ramifications.
As my mind wanders, I stare into the distance at the tall daunting trees in the distance. They are filled with a quiet restlessness. I can hear them whisper in the wind, calling out to me. Their vibrant leaves hold the secrets of the past that will one day be told to the next generation. How will these secrets be revealed, you ask? Through their sounds, because if you listen carefully to the rustling of the leaves, they bare all the secrets one could ever hope to learn. The key is to listen, truly listen to the things that surround us, instead of filling our minds with clutter. Perhaps only then will we find the peace we so desperately search for in this world.
