Ugh, readers. This week has been a tough one for me personally. Amidst the day to day responsibilities of life and work my best friend and roomie of forever also moved to Chicago. It's exciting and remarkable and I am over the moon for her (because she is going to kill it!). But after I dropped her off and spent a few days at home, a sort of quiet settled in. There is a present emptiness, even now as I write this post. And I got to thinking about this new environment and me - just me alone.
You know the question, "If a tree falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?" My sister explored this idea a couple of months ago amidst working on a multi media project for a fine arts class. Back then the question was provocative and got me thinking. But now I really feel it. I am the tree. When I am all alone, who am I? What part of Celene am I? Who am I beyond my physical being and that little voice in my head when there is no one else around?
Being a bit neurotic, I like to assign a context for everything. I feel so much safer with a flow-chart approach to life. But this newly descended quiet has left me feeling completely without context. The rhythm I made for myself has been disrupted. Now, resting in this period of transition, I sense how much I am the maker of my own destiny. I am reminded that I set my rhythm. And whoa, that demands ultimate ownership.
Over the past few days, this has manifested on a more superficial level. I made key lime pie just because I felt like it. Then I warmed all of my dog's blankets in the dryer so he would be extra cozy. Yes, I started doing weird stuff. But upon considering this freedom more deeply, I feel more overwhelmed by the weightlessness of the present than the judgement. I, Celene, can do just about anything - how lucky and abstract and ridiculous is that?
Thinking critically about this makes me feel a few things. For one, seriously grateful and appreciative for my life and how fulfilled I am by everything in it. But also hungry. Having time to be alone, reflect, and reconnect with my soul reminds me of how much more I want to do. How important it is to subdue that little voice that can be so distracting, needlessly inventive, and critical. It's tough! But in the moments when all else melts away and it's just me, sitting at my desk, living and breathing, I feel absolutely liberated.
So, to answer the question, yes. When the tree falls it does make a sound. That sound ripples outward, through valleys and over mountains until it echoes straight back to center. And then, BOOM. You are standing straight again with a whole new view.
Here are a few things on my just-for-me list:
- Read The Shining.
- Frame my teeny-tiny Burning Man quilt.
- And yes, finish that key lime pie.