Month: February 2023

These days, life is so busy, and silence can be such a powerful tool. Sometimes, I feel that there are forces in society that want us to stay busy and distracted so we don’t take the time to realize we have shifted. We are no longer creating meaning in our lives; we’ve shifted to creating content. Silence is so important to ground ourselves; it’s a space in which we can examine where we are going and where we want to be. How might you use silence? If you take up the challenge and want to share, please add a pingback to this prompt.

My head is full of mush. I am taking a line out of that well know children’s book: “and a head full of mush.” Sure, these are not the exact words, but they are close, right? A head full of mush is a bit more debilitating—and less nourishing, perhaps—than a bowl full of mush.

I have not had [made, maybe] the time to sit in silence recently, so I have not been able to absorb the important lessons that silence can teach. I have been moving non-stop and have not taken the time to slow down. I am under deadline on a project that is nearing completion… at least in its first iteration.

But silence shouldn’t be something we “fit in” when we’re not busy with other things. No… silence should be a daily ritual—one around which we build everything else. And I would say these days, in particular, silence is imperative. The world keeps us so busy we can’t move beyond the surface level. Unless we stop. And listen to Silence.

In silence, we can reflect on what we’ve done and how we might do better.

In silence, we can listen for the pieces that aren’t quite fitting together to determine what’s bothering us.

In silence, we can find, evaluate, and redirect our missteps.

Silence creates greater focus and intention.

Silence pushes us to grow beyond our comfort zone.

Silence teaches us who we are.

I hope you will take some time each day to sit in silence and absorb the messages you find there. It might be uncomfortable at first, especially if you haven’t spent much time in silence. But soon, you will see how sitting in silence can change your life.

Somedays, I tend to use a bit of hyperbole. Today was one of those days. Do you ever use hyperbole in your speech or interactions with others? As always, if you choose to take up the challenge, please add a pingback to this prompt.

It’s been a long week. What I mean is, it’s been a crazy long week here on the ground in New England. In a meeting this morning, I told someone I thought I might go home and sleep for three weeks. He said he felt that was a very long time to sleep, but I’m not sure that’s hyperbole. I am exhausted and if today weren’t Friday, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t make it to Friday.

This week, we became fully entrenched in the double-digits of February, a phenomenon I learned about years ago when I worked in a boarding school. These are dreaded days, especially for those of us in education. Winter is getting old, and spring is still far away. While there’s a bit more daylight, it’s still dark when I get up and dark when I leave work. Cabin fever isn’t as bad as usual this year, especially since we’ve had a couple of spring-ish days.

But students are antsy. They can almost see Spring Break, but not quite. They are still bogged down in the work that comes with midterm time, and they are anxious and emotional. In between meeting with my regular students, I run from one commitment to the next, from this meeting to that like my hair’s on fire. And it was cloudy and rainy all day, at least until this evening when it decided to snow instead. All these things combined have led to exhaustion. Seasonal exhaustion, if there is such a thing, sort of like seasonal allergies.

When I finally get to bed tonight, perhaps I’ll sleep for three weeks, or perhaps I’ll only sleep until tomorrow. Either way, the double-digits of February have me tightly in their grasp. And I can’t wait until they let go.