listen

Listen: original mixed media on clayboard

One day while listening to an address given at church, the speaker was talking about the importance of meditation and that we need to make it a daily practice. I was quite young and I looked up at my mother and asked what meditation was. She explained simply that it was when you took the time to stop and think and listen. I looked at her bewildered, “Do you mean that not everybody does that?” She stopped and looked into my eyes and smiled and shook her head, no.

I remember trying to read the look in her eyes. Her familiar eyes were like looking into a mirror. But at this moment, I couldn’t quite read them. Were they filled with humor? My little daydreamer. She can’t imagine a world where people don’t stare out of the window until they grow weary. Was it remembrance I saw? I remember when I was young and didn’t have five children running around and I had the time to meditate.

I had a realization at that moment: Meditation comes naturally to me. But it might not always be as easy as I grow into adulthood.

The beach is like a holy place. It takes me away from the stress of my life and my burdens and leaves me with time to meditate. It happens naturally whenever I end up on the shore. No matter the season or time of day, the sound of the waves creeps into my soul and my body lets go and makes room for me to listen. Just listen.

This painting was inspired by this thought process. My realization from years ago has indeed come into fruition and I no longer naturally meditate. I have chaos surrounding me on every side, to-do lists filling up my space and children needing me for every imaginable thing. So I need to remind myself to stop. Breathe. Listen.