Be the Oak

Y’all know that saying: “If it’s too loud, you’re too old?” Well, if this is true, then I’m ancient.

A few days ago the chaos in the office wore my nerves to a frazzle: phones ringing, office doors slamming, co-worker’s voices raised in frustration, edged with sarcasm and aggravation. I looked forward to the peace and quiet of my lunch hour sitting outside. However, this temporary “cone of silence” was not to be. Train horn’s blared. 18-Wheeler’s screeched. Siren’s wailed. Builder’s drills drilled, saws screamed, and hammers pounded. “Calgon take me away!” My stomach tightened. Teeth clenched. I struggled to keep from curling into a fetal position. In the midst all of his racket, it dawned on me crystal clear: little wonder why people are constantly stressed. Why so many are on edge and hateful. Why there is so little God=like behavior toward their fellow man:

They can not hear God’s still, small voice.

In the spirit of self=preservation, I turned my back on this Demon of Turmoil and walked away.

I walked for three blocks. I paused under giant Oaks and Maples, looked up, and marveled at their strength, their greenness; their majesty. I shut my eyes and listened as the wind spoke to hundreds of leaves not in a loud, demanding voice, but a rather a soft, gentle swaying. I heard the robin’s cheep, the Cardinal’s chirps, the blue-jay’s thief. I felt the warmth of the sun on my back defrosting the air-conditioned freeze. My heart-rate slowed. Calmness blanketed my shoulders.

I walked on.

Wind chimes tinkled on porches. Water gurgled in Koi ponds and small fountains. A soft meow from a lazy house-cat greeted me as I rounded the corner. I began to hum. To smile. I stopped and smelled the roses—literally.

My ears swam in golden silence.

I returned to my desk in a tranquil state. The harshness of a man-made, dog-eat-dog, rush-rush, money-hungry environment tried to destroy my stoned-like mood one piece at at time. I defeated it by closing my eyes and picturing the Oak tree that stands in peaceful bliss and whose power and magnificence only needs the gentle breeze to speak loud and clear.

Silence is golden my friends. Drink it in.

Become the Mighty Oak.

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