Whispers

 

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During my morning practice I bask in the silence as I write and meditate and sip coffee. The other day I was especially enchanted by the sound of my wind chime outside my window. We keep the window slightly opened during even the coldest of nights and so it was this opening that allowed me to hear the gentle wind and then the delicate chime of one singular sound float in, and again a few more times, with always the one singular bell.  While I love wind chimes, I have always loved the pure sound of the wind, of seeing the wind through the tree tops or as it sweeps across the water, and the feel of the wind on my skin and face.  I learned the word psithurism whose very definition is the sound of wind in the trees and the rustling of leaves.  The sound, sight, and feel of the wind is sacred to me and in its movement, I feel deep and transcendent joy.   Even in the more blustery days like today, I honor and revere the wind as the life force in motion.  Sublime.

“The grace of God is a wind which is always blowing.”  ~Sri Ramakrishna

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