How do you define yourself? Are you more alive in the city or at ease in the country? Do you want to lie on the grass staring at the sky inhaling the whispered scent of wildflowers or listen to the cacophony of voices, scents, and visual cues? Do you need the pulse of the city to feel connected with your fellow humans?
Does a visit to a museum, lunch at an outdoor cafe and an evening concert make your heart beat faster or do you feel more inspired by gnarled trees, spreading roots and bird song? Does lying in a hammock taking a nap feel like heaven. Does the sound of silence stir your inner being and connect you with all that has been and all that will be? If it does, you know where you belong.
To tell the truth, I would have a difficult time telling you where I fit. I was raised outside New York City and worked there in my early twenties. I loved the vibe, the excitement, the smells and the diversity.
Currently, we have a small weekend cottage on a lake where I take in the open sky, the view of the lapping water and the flitting of the birds, but I don’t want to live there. There are no good eating establishments nearby and if I have to go to the grocery, it’s a bit of a hike; plus there are creepy creatures hidden under stones and rocks. Yet, when I access the gravel road to our home, I relish the time I spend there.
“Learn to be quiet enough to hear the sound of the genuine within yourself, so that you can hear it in other people. ~ Marion Wright Edelman
Our town-home, where we spend most of our time, is not in the city, but I can get downtown in 30 minutes to go to a concert or play or spoil myself with a special glass of wine and a well-crafted meal. It’s not something I normally do, but once a month with a group of woman friends.
Like all Libras, the scale has to be balanced. I come alive and feel imbued with energy in a city. I relax and breathe deeply when there is just the trees and me in the country. I’m conflicted and confused about making choices. Harmony and symmetry characterize who I am.
As most of you know, I went on an astro-photography workshop recently. The silence was profound and deeply affecting. There were 12 other photographers, but I was in my own world that was hushed and silent. It was just me, the stars and what felt like eternity. There was no noise, but my breath and I felt at peace with the stillness.
Hello darkness, my old friend
I've come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
And the vision that was planted in my brain still remains
Within the sound of silence
My friend, Jill of Jillian Baudry, south of France photographer is the next up in our Serenity Circle.