When Quiet Echoes

A Quiet Moment Along Lake Michigan

We all experience it. Our need for quiet. I’m sure you know what I mean. It only takes a minute in the presence of the over-whelm and stressful over-thinking to wish for calm again.

And if we don’t pay attention to our needs, or if we let whatever is bothering us get out of hand, our bodies hammer in a reminder. For me there’s an undeniable sensation that feels like someone with strong hands is pressing on the sides of my temples.

Instinctually we know the remedy. Quiet. Maybe we can walk the dog. Put on our hiking shoes and hit the trail…or do a walkabout in our neighborhood for that matter. At the very least we stand up from what we’re doing to stretch out all the kinks. Twist to adjust the spine. Throw our arms wide and scoop them above our heads taking a big inhale. Exhaling we let out a longer ahhh sound. By intentionally breathing our bodies regulate as they refill our depleted supply of oxygen.

Echoing Quiet

It’s easy for me to blame the outside world and all its crazy dysfunction as the sole reason for overwhelm. Yes, true. I admit. Just a hint of the current news sparks an underlining stress response which has become my constant companion lately. It sucks my energy dry adding to fatigue.

Yet there’s a realization that I’m noticing the overwhelm. Awareness of it is a good first step. It seems like a contradiction but the inner recognition that I’m frustrated or even angry with politics, my job, my family and so forth is something to be thankful for. In this way whatever or whoever in our world is weighing us down is also our teacher. I’m excluding unhealthy abusive situations here, of course.

Let’s say for a moment that we take the circumstance we’re working on. Hold it up to the light and take a good look at it. Don’t be too quick to analyze it. Just look at it and see it for what it is, for what it might be saying to us.

It’s the same when we explore dreams. As much as our over-thinking talents love to take a dream figure or symbol and interpret it straight away, there is usually something else lurking around it. Stay with simply observing it because…

…this is where the echoing comes in. It’s like throwing a small rock into a pond. We can’t help but notice the beautiful rippling. We watch how wide its edges spread. One rock can have far reaching effects. We can see it with our eyes so it’s believable. What about messages from our other senses?

Our bodies reverberate like the ripples in the pond. The many physical reactions that we have to external stimuli may be revealing what is truly trying to be heard. At first we may think that the echoing thoughts of our life’s stresses are the sole focus. We think that if we solve those, then we’ve fixed the infected root.

What if these thoughts are only a distraction? What if there is something else we need to see or, more importantly, to feel?

The Equinox of Change

It’s possible that at this juncture we are in danger of misreading the signals. The quiet may have allowed more questions to emerge. I don’t know about you but while exhaling a huge sigh I’m saying to myself – now what.  

We’ve done some (or a lot) of inner work. At this point we’re anxiously wanting to take a step forward. But if I defer to my go-to mental processing alone, then I may find myself circling back to the hamster wheel of thought-producing worries and fears.

Ironically, even though we may be desperately looking for an answer, getting out of our heads is more helpful. During these complicated times I try looking to nature for guidance.

As you know today September 22 is Fall Equinox. Equal night. Nature is in balance, transitioning to its next phase. I happen to love thresholds and I bow with gratitude as the season turns toward autumn. If I don’t spoil the beauty of this moment by imposing meaning, then I may notice what I’m meant to see.

I’ve decided that my curiosity has brought me here so with a big smile I open to what I’m observing. Again, this is an intentional choice I’m making to get out of my head and experience what I’m actually seeing in the moment.

So here goes…I began a journey three weeks ago in Maryland along the shores of the Chesapeake Bay, the largest estuary in the United States. Like a migrating bird I answered a call. I journeyed to where I live now – Michigan’s west coast. It feels as though the ancient glacial waters of Lake Michigan pulled me through a gateway only to discover another shoreline. So, for me, the edge between land and water is clearly apparent. I’m noticing a space that marks both the end and the beginning. And it feels calming.

There’s something else. Fall equinox 2025 is also a waxing crescent moon. It’s the very beginning of the waxing moon phase when only .4% of the lunar disk is illuminated. It so happens that I was born at dawn on a day when there was the same exact moon phase. The dawn of the day. The beginning of moon illumination.

It’s hard to stay in the moment and not leap to conclusions. Allowing the quiet to keep echoing isn’t easy. Some meanings are jumping up and down ready to be seen. Other meanings are still hidden. So, I need to stay in this liminal space that is only beginning its journey toward illumination.

One thing is clear…the quiet is definitely reverberating. I’m trying to remain relaxed with curiosity and open observation and trust that my intuition will spark with clear knowing when it’s ready. So, I don’t need to jump too quickly to figure out a meaning.

How about you? When the quiet echoes what are you observing…not thinking…but seeing and feeling.