23 December 2013


Inner silence is for our race a difficult achievement. There is a chattering part of the mind which continues, until it is corrected, to chatter on even in the holiest places.
- Perelandra, by C.S. Lewis

The sounds of men yelling over loud chainsaws and machinery resonate outside my home right now. Loud thuds of heavy tree limbs falling just inches from my windows can be heard from every part of my tiny home. While I was cutting vegetables and prepping them for roasting in my oven, a big tree limb above my home was cut, and some branches scraped the roof as it fell to the ground tied with ropes for the men to control it's accuracy. It kind of jarred me, especially when I saw how big that limb was, and it was hovering just feet away from my big kitchen windows.

Of course the men have to be here today while I have time to think. For the first time in weeks (maybe months?) I actually had several hours today with nothing pressing. Yet when I sat down all I heard was machinery. My thoughts were interrupted. Distracted. Unsettled.

So I am escaping in to my bedroom with my trusty laptop and books. In here I can write out this post and be away (sort of) from the noises of danger that kind of trap me in my own home for a little while. I've been reading for hours today. That, at least, doesn't involve my own mind putting words together into coherent sentences. But here I am trying to write something. Eventually the noises outside will cease. But sure enough there will be something else that comes along to distract. What works best for you when things keep coming along to distract you?

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