Yesterday I worked in the yard, aware of wind chimes. I wondered how it is to be still and then the wind blows through bringing movement and sound. Are we any different?
Even as the wind chime hangs there, movement is happening, just more slowly than we perceive. How do I cultivate stillness, and allow the wind to blow through me bringing movement and my own vibratory slant to the air?
A friend’s email always ends with these words of Naomi Shihab Nye from her poem “Kindness”.
“Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside,
you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing.
You must wake up with sorrow.
You must speak to it till your voice
catches the thread of all sorrows
and you see the size of the cloth.
Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore.”

