The Emmaus Journal
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As a state of being, quietness is in direct contrast to the World we occupy and the American Lifestyle altogether. The perpetual noise index is at its highest peak within our structured cities that now seem to stretch into endless waves of suburbia. There literally seems to be the hum-buzz of noise in every scenario imaginable and it tenaciously seems to interfere with all efforts of finding any outside quietness.
The perception of quietness, as a relative state of being, must then lie within the mind and soul of each man, woman, and child. Perhaps to become a comfort zone to some, only to be a torture to others. The dividing line seemingly depends upon the consciousness of each human being. Quietness may be longed for by a few only to be shunned by many. Because quietness is often pushed away in blatant rejection within our social orders today from the young to the old; quietness as its own identity has become more illusive than ever.
In our modern everyday lifestyles we have opted to invite the absence of quietness instead. Even Nature's quiet harmonies are surreptitiously defaulted by our own projections of life. The natural state of Nature and its peaceful quietness has become secondary within our demanding society. For it seems that the newest of man's creative inventions have surmounted a noisy assault against what was once highly esteemed as our haven's of quietude. Unmistakably, there still remains a law of quietness, and that law is a self contained universal law unto itself. Therefore this law is only upheld by those who might see it in the purity and light of its Creator.
Quietness, after all, is possible to find in the middle of a busy bustling crowd. Quietness can also be found in the mist of towering city buildings, as well as in the solitude of a nursery room with a crying baby; or on the knoll of a hill far away from all humanity. One can even find quietness in the sanctuaries of commonness, or in the many galleries of daily boredom. For truly, quietness is found in the heart of it's possessor.
The awesome grandeur of quietness holds uncharted territories which defers to each individual who adventurously searches. Our Creator purposely graced quietness as a refuge to be found. It can be found outwardly and also inwardly, within the depths of our own being, if we will but seek. Our spirit will know the paths of quietness as our feet set upon its coarse. For the roads less traveled in quietness are the very ones that enlighten the soul. Quietness never despises its seeker and forever invites the aware. Like a cooling breeze on a hot summery day, quietness lingers just long enough to be noticed. Once noticed quietness beckons to be honestly recognized in appreciation. For in the appreciation comes a joy in knowing that such quietness is exactly what the heart has yearned for and the spirit greets. For quietness does come to those who patiently seek. Not knowing its time of arrival, not expecting its departure, quietness will come.
Oh, surely I have caught thee though no capture can it be for quietness is not mine nor can I send it to thee.
But remains the invisible gift that seems to ebb and flow for quietness you see my friend tis revealed within the soul.
Quietness has therefore remained ageless and underestimated. Few words can describe it accurately, for quietness is full of ethereal ambiguities that are evasive to the reasoning mind. Quietness fleetingly appears before the natural eye, only to mysteriously dissolve in a flood of nouns and synonyms. The quality of quietness like a healing ointment bids to embraces the soul and soothe the anxious heart. Through quietness we are enabled to engage the universe and reflect upon the cosmos of time. Through such quietness we incorporate the infinite knowledge within the spirit with the mind's eye directed toward reality. In such quietness we reach toward our Creator in communion, with the heart set toward eternal proclamations.
Till in absence of myself to bequeath a portion divine there needs to be willingness of soul swept into quietness sublime.
tgy © 2004 C.L. Mareydt d23