Note on Trumpet

Walking home, after a hard run this evening, something occurred to me.  Running has become more than just exercise for me; I find it hard and uncomfortable but very satisfying and very often, when the pounding has stopped and I walk home through the quiet evening streets, some interesting thought or perspective will arise.

This time, walking home, there was the sound of an outdoor concert.  Noises of drums, voices, electric guitar were ricocheting across the streets off walls and there was this feeling of buzzing energy….all the more so, because of the tension on the dark, thundery, early summer clouds overhead.  Noise, I thought, noise.  And then a few very quick leaps and an idea had been quickly spun.

We look for silence, but never in the place where it lives, in the heart of noise.  We look for peace, but rarely in the heart of war, in the chaos of our inner battles.  We look for stillness, but never consider that it may be found in motion. Those party-goers to the open-air concert…..were they going for the noise, or were they going for the silence within the noise? Were they not truly going to their temple, to the heart of life?  For what is life, if it is not this constant, silent crescendo?


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