This morning I wake to whiteness outside – to a thick fog that has enveloped us.  All that is visible are the trees in the garden.  Gone is the other side of the dam, the scattered farm buildings and orchards on the hill and the mountains that watch over us. The dam water reflecting the soft silver of the morning as it merges with the mist.  I am held in the song of birds.

In the distance a tractor starts. I can hear it is not moving, its engine idles and I am wondering why the driver does not switch it off. I feel an annoyance creeping in. Of the interruption of my cocooned morning of meditating in quietness on the stoep. It felt like this fog was impenetrable.  That I was protected from the outside world. But I am not – I am part of it.

So how to sit in this silence with the intrusion of this reverberating engine? I bring my attention to the birds who seem to be singing even louder – as if to drown out the sound of the incessant tractor. 

I’m reminded of the first generator we had at the time of the start of load shedding years ago.  It sounded like this.  It looked like the front part of a tractor that had been placed in pedestal with guard rails to protect it.  I was too embarrassed by its loudness to allow my husband to use it. Load shedding brought a stillness to the night that I did not want to interrupt.

I’m missing the stillness of the darkness of winter’s mornings enhanced by the quietness of lockdown curfews.  I miss waking up to the blackness outside.  I miss going to sit outside wrapped up in blankets, lighting my candle.  I miss the dancing of the flame against that darkness – the tiny flame that brings so much light.

In the whiteness of the morning the flame of my candle seems insignificant.  Too small.

Throughout my life when there is a sense of overwhelm I retreat into my cocoon.  I withdraw into stillness to recharge myself. For most of my life I did not realise that I did that I did that. I do now and am grateful for what it gifts me.

I hear the tractor move, the driver slows the tractor so that he can wave good morning to me sitting on the stoep. It drives past.  And then silence.

I pause in my writing to connect to the stillness I feel within.  Embracing the noises of life as I hear another tractor further working in the distance.  Feeling the gratitude of being here. Feeling myself smile.

Knowing that it is in the contrasts that we feel Life.

I’ll go to bed early tonight to wake up earlier to enjoy the darkness of spring’s morning. To wake before the tractors start heralding the working day.

As Lockdown restrictions are lifted and its time to moves closer for me to work face to face with people I have felt a resistance. I’m wondering if I am ready. What changes has lockdown gifted me – where have there been internal shifts that will allow me to contribute to making a difference in this world. Together we can dream a new way of being into reality.

Emerging into a new way of being– Constellation Circle