This is from my clergy writing group:

There is a stillness, sometimes …

There is a stillness, sometimes, in the midst of life …

There is a stillness, sometimes, in the midst of life, every day life, that is like being reborn or renewed.  And this stillness dies in the clutter of my busyness, my refusal to sit still, or at least to live in the awareness of what I am actually doing that needs to be done …
Maybe it’s the dishes – which I usually power through, my mind focused, not on what I am doing, but rather on what I may be doing next.
So I am unaware.
Merely busy.
No silence.
No stillness.

There is a silence sometimes – and I miss it.

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