By Betsy Burdett

 

One of the camp activities that I’ve heard about has to do with the art of listening. The nature counselor, sometimes the same person as the hiking counselor, takes the girls out in the woods, sets them down in separate spots, and tells them to listen to the sounds of the woods without saying a word. I tried it with my granddaughter when she was here for her Easter school break, but she was so busy telling me all the things that she heard that there never was any real quiet time.

So, last Sunday afternoon I found a place to sit along our driveway, and I just sat. I sat for a long time; it took 10 minutes for the two dogs to figure out that I was not going to pet or talk to them regardless of the fact that I was sitting on the ground where doing so would be very easy.

Here’s what I heard: the wind in the trees and wind blowing past my ears, the dog wiggling in the leaves, a bee, a bird, a different bird, the pony naying back at the barn, a cricket, trucks on I-26, another different bird call, and then another, running water in the creek below, tiny insects barely audible…

All within sight of my spot I saw young ferns, shadows cast by the fading light, moths, wild ginger, dandelions, gravel, deer tracks, dying hemlock and blooming dogwood, pines and budding poplars, bushes blowing in the breeze, wild violets, seed pods falling from tree branches, daisies, rattlesnake plantain, some very busy ants, tiny movements of grasses and flowerheads swinging in the breeze, young new blooms poking through a bed of decayed leaves…

Thinking about what I tasted or smelled, it was hard to figure. It was simply clean. There was no smell that overpowered another. It simply smelled fresh and good.

Now to feel: I felt the wind blowing past my body and warmth from the sun on my arms and legs, the cool hard rocks upon which I sat. What I felt was very simple. I felt PEACE, which of course got my overly analytical mind spinning. We know that our greatest decisions are more likely to be made according to how we feel rather than upon what we see and hear, yet we fill our days with words and pictures and information. We act out our daily lives in reaction to our fears, or our comfort zones. We do not choose our spouse according to how he/she looks, sounds, or material wealth. The spot that I chose to sit in was based upon what I saw around it, but what enticed me to sit there for a long, long time was the peace present in that space.

There’s a line that I hear in church often: “May the peace which surpasses all understanding guard your hearts and your minds…” That’s the peace that I felt last Sunday afternoon.

Now, you’ve wasted enough time reading this bit of chatter, and I’ve made it short enough that you have at least five minutes to go outside, be quiet and still, and feel some of that peace which passes all understanding. It’s a gift; go get it!