I like the simple things. Most of us do, yet we are still so complicated.
Simple things have a way of making us humans sit peacefully. As we all have our own vices and devices which pacify us or makes us feel “normal,” it is often the most simple of these which we enjoy the most.
It is also in solitude where we are at our most simple and basic in form. These are our silent gardens; places we should visit often.
Some of us find our garden at the end of the day, sitting comfortably in a chair and reading a book. Others might find it while sitting on a busy thoroughfare, sipping a coffee and watching people pass along. Some might find this place by letting their minds go blank while staring aimlessly into space.
No matter what it is, we all have a space of silent solitude, whether this is in public or not, it is our private comfort; a secret garden of the heart and mind.
In this busy world, cultivating solitude is paramount to sanity. Especially to those of us who live in busier places and lead busier lives than others. Often, the noise is so loud we become lost in our own minds, and it is only in a retreat to our sacred space where we can regroup, recharge and refocus our life and our purpose in it.
But our hearts are most happy when we can work within our solitude. Whether this is our own self-work, introspection or reflection, or if it is actual work, our writing or art or formulating plans for meeting our next goals, this is the space where we work best.
Ultimately, we must learn to find these spaces. And truly they do exist everywhere.
Personally, I’ve always wished for my own art studio, a space that is mine to call my own sanctuary. Throughout the years I’ve had a few versions of this dream. Whether it was an extra room in my home, or my own bedroom with an art table tucked in the corner, or a dining room of a one-bedroom apartment or a shed that I’d remodeled and shiftily converted, I’ve always been able to “build” this space anywhere that I’ve lived.
This is a place not only where I work, but where I hear the silence; a quiet place where the heart speaks and I can listen.
What I’ve found is that I can have this solitude in any room, at any desk or at any easel in any place. For it is not a physical place, but from a space in the mind where this solitude calls us to visit.
And we should all listen when it calls.
Our greatest spiritual teachers all talk of cultivating solitude. And for good reason, as it is here where we are truly ourselves, where noise cannot penetrate or rattle the mind and where our hearts are lucid of the purpose for which we are here.
This is not simply the act of being alone. It is the action of knowing when to listen to the heart. It is the moment where we hear the call to make ourselves invisible for a short while, only to emerge revitalized and invigorated; ready to stand our duty with life.
Often, in life’s busyness we become distracted, confused and dizzied. We may feel as though our purpose has been lost, or that we’ve wasted our time on a starry-eyed endeavor. Perhaps we’ve been working diligently toward something and become stuck, or we have great ideas but can’t seem to find a starting point.
It is here where we must relax ourselves and visit our sacred spaces.
Focusing our efforts and making a determined choice to move forward can be done anywhere, but sometimes we need assurance that we can continue or start or begin again, and sometimes that assurance must come from within.
We should all visit our spaces often, as sometimes listening to the silence holds many answers and opens other doors we’ve yet to consider.
Find your space. You can have it anywhere you choose.
Visit often, and learn the sound of your own heart.
For it is here along this beating rhythm where we all once began, and it is here where we all must one day return.