heather's learning how to be quiet.
it's been an interesting process- this whole idea of learning to keep it in, with hold, listen.
but guess what i'm starting to hear?
my heart, my breath and the wheels in my head turning.
and i can feel the love that surrounds me that's been drowned out by the noise of my previous existence.
an excerpt from my favorite story- "the whispering rabbit":
"come here, little rabbit," said the wise old groundhog, "and i will whisper to you how to wake up the bumblebee [you swallowed]".
"you have to make the littlest noise that you can possibly make because a bumblebee doesn't bother about big noises. he is a very little bee and he is only interested in little noises"
"like a loud whisper?" asked the rabbit.
"too loud," said the groundhog, and popped back into his hole.
"a little noise," whispered the rabbit, and he started making little rabbit noises- he made a noise as quiet as the sound of a bird's wing cutting the air, but the bee didn't wake up. so the little rabbit made the sound of snow falling, but the bee didn't wake up.
so the little rabbit made the sound of a bug breathing and a fly sneezing and grass rustling and a fireman thinking. still the bee didn't wake up. so the rabbit sat and thought of all the little sounds he could think of- what could they be?
a sound quiet as snow melting, quiet as a flower growing, quiet as an egg, quiet as- and suddenly he knew the little noise that he would make- and he made it.
it was like a little click made hundreds of miles away by a bumblebee in an apple tree in full bloom on a mountaintop. it was the very small click of a bee swallowing some honey from an apple blossom.
and at that the bee woke up.
this lewis home sounds like 2 silly little boys.
and there's nothing i love more than listening to every second of it.