2024 - Week 27 - Silence and Letting Go

Why Struggle? Podcast w Barbara J. Faison

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2024 - Week 27 - Silence and Letting Go

This episode is about silence and letting go.

This year I have taken a few road trips. I have traveled for anywhere between 3 to 9 hours at a time and allowed myself to be in silence for at least an hour. I worked my way up to this over the years. I would immerse myself in silence. I would allow my thoughts to do what they do, go all over the place. It's a lovely reminder that I can't control everything. Lol. I started off with 10 to 15 minutes of silence and now I can go longer especially if I'm in the car alone.

Within the last 30 days I've attended the funerals of my aunt, Rosa, and my cousin, Marlis. I am grateful I was able to ride down to Tampa with my brother, Tony and his wife, Patricia, both times. Sitting in the backseat very comfortably, I might add; I crocheted, read, listened to podcasts and audiobooks on the 6+ hour rides. Of course we stopped along the drive and one of our stops is Buc-ee’s, if you aren’t familiar, Google it. lol And after stopping in Buc-ee’s, silence was just what I needed.

Homegoing services or funerals, whatever you call them, are a time for reflection for me. The poem shared at my cousin's funeral on Saturday was called Let Me Go by the poet Christina Georgina Rossetti who lived in the 1800's. Tony and I both remarked after listening to the poem how much we both liked it. After asking the funeral director the name of the poem I was able to find it on Google. Thank you technology. Here it is.

Let Me Go

When I come to the end of the road

And the sun has set for me

I want no rites in a gloom filled room

Why cry for a soul set free?

Miss me a little, but not for long

And not with your head bowed low

Remember the love that once we shared.

Miss me, but let me go.

For this is a journey we all must take

And each must go alone.

It's all part of the master plan

A step on the road to home.

When you are lonely and sick at heart

Go to the friends we know.

Laugh at all the things we used to do

Miss me, but let me go.

When I am dead my dearest

Sing no sad songs for me

Plant thou no roses at my head

Nor shady cypress tree

Be the green grass above me

With showers and dewdrops wet

And if thou wilt remember

And if thou wilt, forget.

I shall not see the shadows,

I shall not fear the rain;

I shall not hear the nightingale

Sing on as if in pain;

And dreaming through the twilight

That doth not rise nor set,

Haply I may remember,

And haply may forget.

Leaving Florida I stopped crocheting and enjoyed looking at the scenery. The flat terrain and palm trees made me miss the colorful trees and flowers I would see along the Georgia landscape. I could feel my body relaxing as I watched the trees and water along the road.

At one time silence for me felt very scary. I would dread not having something to distract me. With practice, I have learned to relish silence. In the silence, I hear the gentle whooshing of the fan as I lie in bed in the mornings before I get up. I hear the birds singing when I sit outside on my back deck. And I remind myself to be open and receptive to receive answers to questions that I may have, in the silence. I have developed an intimate relationship with silence, we are partners now on my life’s journey.

Take a moment to practice a little bit of silence with me.

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