February Policy # 2– Embrace the Silence
A ruby throated hummingbird beats its wings 55 times in a second. In many ways, life Up North during the summer months is that way; it is a continual forward motion of activity, a flurry of faces, a time when we work and play harder. Our children run until they fall asleep in beds riddled with grains of sand. They smell of water and wind and days that slip by too quickly. And we love every second of it.
But still. There is something to be said about the restorative power of the winter season.
It is a time to return to center, to soak in the silence of snow-lined trees and empty streets.
I walk along the edge of the bay, sometimes alone, sometimes with friends. There are moments without words when the deep groans and creeks of lake ice become the soundtrack of our breathing. There is time spent noticing rocks encased in thin layers of ice, of frozen sand that does not stir in the wind.
As a mother, embracing the silence takes practice. It takes mindfulness, and if I lived anywhere else, it would be next to impossible. Here, though, here I can look out my kitchen window as the warm hues of sunset glow against the snow, and there it is: the stillness, the quiet, the calm.