{thanksful: 15 – quiet}

I cannot meditate to save my soul.

Which sucks, really. I’m awful at all the yogic mindfulness crap. I am heedless and clumsy and sort of lurch through life, knocking my hips on the edge of tables and stubbing my metaphoric toes. I’m rather admiring of people who have… an intrinsic quietude within them. I am just not one of them.

But, I’ve always found quiet. In cathedrals, in churchyards. I ate lunch for a whole year at an old cemetery in St. Helena. I worried the caretakers found it rather odd. But, it was so quiet.

Stirling Holy Rood Church T 9

Quiet – peace – finds us where it finds us. Some people need cliffs and vistas and water views. We don’t always have the option to trek off someplace far away. But the reminders of our mortality aren’t usually that far away – and while I’m told most people find it macabre, cemeteries are restful to me. Because they remind me that, regardless, whatever I think is The Worst usually is not.

Stirling 121

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