I woke up too early for a Sunday morning. There is, however, an advantage to waking up so early. Quiet contemplation. When the only sounds in the house, besides my tapping fingers on the keyboard, are the whir of my hard drive and the gentle burble of my coffee maker, my brain can float through various events and memories and introspection.
Even the world outside is quiet. Oh sure, the grain elevator is humming, keeping all of that corn dry. But the rest of the world is in bed. They haven't even gotten up to get ready for church yet. No rumbling mufflers; no pumped up bass with a backbeat to rattle your nerves. Only one tiny bird somewhere making a noise quite similar to a dog's squeeky toy. (I think it's a junco, but I can't be sure without seeing it.)
I was just thinking to myself how much I like the quiet. I like to let my mind wander, and expand on possibilities, and take paths I wouldn't normally think to traverse. I can't do these things when the world is so full of noise. Noise blocks out thought. (Maybe that's why so many people turn the volume up on their stereos... But that's a thought for another time.) Even in my rowdy younger days, I was never one for too much loudness... Unless I was trying to drown something out. Barking dogs and gunshots (I grew up in an area where the fall was riddled with the sounds of hunting) have always set my nerves on edge. I've only ever been to a half-dozen concerts in my life, and all of them were too noisy. How can you enjoy the music if you can't really hear it because it's too loud?
Take some time today for quiet contemplation. Allow your senses to take in everything without the distraction of noise. It truly is a wonderful thing.
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