Everything in the Universe speaks if only I could pause long enough to hear it.

My mind is full of twirling thoughts that whizz around. Some keep me distracted for a millisecond and some for hours. I debate, I conjecture, I judge, I constantly talk to myself. When I am not talking to myself I am busy looking at my screen, breezing through people’s lives, pausing ever so briefly.

With all this clutter how could I hear the Universe speak?

Thomas Hardy – in the book ‘Under the Greenwood Tree’ writes

“To dwellers in a wood almost every species of tree has its voice as well as its feature.

At the passing of the breeze the fir-trees sob and moan no less distinctly than they rock; the holly whistles as it battles with itself; the ash hisses amid its quiverings; the beech rustles while its flat boughs rise and fall.

And winter, which modifies the note of such trees as shed their leaves, does not destroy its individuality.”

Today as I sat still ever so briefly I heard the sound of waves breaking on the beach, followed by the distinctive whoosh of their backwash. I froze. I stopped the roar in mind. I stopped my hand from using the phone to take a picture.

Look at me! Do my charming colours not attract you? I play an enchanting orchestra but you don’t listen.

I looked around. Kids running, playing games. Adults talking or looking at their phones. No one looked at the sea except for a cursory glance.

I sat down on the sand. The ensemble was in its full performance. I watched the sunset. No thoughts, no memories, no conversations, no to-do lists, no worries, no aimless looking- just me and the sound of waves. Strangely I could no longer hear the world behind me.

The waves and me. What I heard was a beautiful song, melodious played. Its notes, some loud and some mellow, alternating rhythmically in a particular sequence.

My heart constantly desired to look back at the world; what if I missed something crucial; what if my child had got hurt; what if he needed me; what if ? My heart ached from needless what “ifs”. My hand itched for my phone. Holding still was a constant struggle.

I didn’t hear much. I left before the Universe could start its conversation with me.


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