I grew up in a small town in western Wyoming. On a recent trip home to visit my parents, I
took the opportunity to check out Fremont Lake.
Fremont is the largest lake in the area and every few years it freezes
clear before snow blankets it. This was
one of those special years so I wanted to enjoy the phenomena. Little did I know that a simple trip to the
lake would have such a profound affect on my life.
As I approached the lake, I noticed several people hundreds
of feet from shore enjoying the spectacle on their ice skates. Standing at the edge of the lake, I marveled
at clear ice as far as I could see. It
was astonishing. When the lake freezes
this way, it’s typically only a few days before a snowstorm rolls through and
covers everything in a blanket of white.
It was almost eerie looking at the frozen sheet and wondering just how
strong the ice was. I went further
around the lake and found myself in solitude.
No one around – blanketed in absolute quiet. What happened next was nothing short of transformative.
Standing at the edge of the ice, I was struck by the
absolute silence. Without a breeze there
were no interruptions from cars, planes, or people. The bitter cold air and snow muffled every
sound except for a periodic squawk from a raven somewhere in the distance. I stood in the quiet losing track of time absorbed
in the silence. It was in that solitude
that I heard it. At first almost
imperceptible, I noticed sounds coming from beneath the ice. I could hear small bubbles struggling to find
a path to the surface and crackling as tiny fissures strained within the ice. I stayed for a long time listening
carefully. I was overwhelmed by the
immensity of the moment. The lake was alive and singing its own symphony, even
in its hibernation. Had it not been so
quiet, I would never have heard the song.
I found my spirit connected with the music. And despite the bitter cold against my cheeks
and hands, the silence was like a warm blanket around me – I could have
remained there for hours.
The bubbles and cracks were nearly impossible to detect without
the quiet that encapsulated them. It
reminded me of the vital importance of silence. It occurred to me that without it, those
bubbles and cracks would have gone unnoticed.
This insight led me to think about the bubbles and tiny cracks in my own
life. Am I quiet enough to hear the song
within me looking for a path to the surface.
Later, I reflected on the importance of silence in being able to detect
areas of stress in my life, just like the water beneath the ice was trying desperately
to find a way to crack toward the surface.
Often, the stress is there, but I allow the roar of everyday life to
drown out the warning signals until it’s often too late.
The beautiful sonnet played by the lake on that day will
forever fill my heart. It will act as a
reminder that many songs in our lives can only be heard in silence. While it may sound counter-intuitive, it
really is in silence that we are able to hear the melody beneath the ice that’s
straining to be heard.
Duane Grove is founder of Connect2Action and an aspiring
quiet, reflective servant-leader.
Curious sage in perpetual development connecting us all on a journey of
discovery of our highest purpose. Follow
Duane on Twitter @connect2action and connect with him on LinkedIn, Facebook,
and Google+. Learn more about Connect2Action
by visiting www.connect2action.com.
You can follow his blogs at: mindfulperspectives.blogspot.com and
connect2action.blogspot.com
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