Diggin' in the Dirt

"Diggin' in the dirt; it's a wonderful thing," is a song I made up for my grandson.  At the time I was thinking more of him than of me.

But over the last so many years, digging in the dirt has become one of my wonderful things too.  A nice, big bag of potting soil is a great purchase for me and I love to use an extra plastic plant pot to scoop it out in big shovels full. 

We went to the doctor's office yesterday and they had a sound system going continuously.  The music choice was fairly modern, although almost every one of the patients was a senior citizen.  Oh, how I wished I was home with a bag of potting soil and peace and quiet in the yard. 

Our neighbors (we can't see the house from ours) have a son who is into rock music.  And starting last summer, he started some sort of garage band.  Sound carries in the woods more than most would realize.  We can hear even faint conversations if someone is walking in them.  So the band's sound carries all too well, and I find myself annoyed at times.  If I'm in this room where I write the blog, the sound penetrates the walls and windows and I can still here it, particularly the bass and the drums.

Fortunately, it isn't all day, every day or we'd probably have to ask to have him turn down the amps. 

We can also hear Sluggers and Putters sometimes, usually their public address system announcements.  But honestly, it's been much quieter from them than the garage band.

There is such value in quiet, in silence.  How are we to hear God if we don't give Him a chance to have our ear?  The silence that has been practiced for centuries in monasteries is balm for the cloistered monks or nuns living there. 

For those of us who live more ordinary lives, silence still has an important place in our mental and physical well being.  By giving ourselves the gift of quiet without something sticking in our ears as we walk or garden, we let the sounds of nature in to sooth us and heal our disquieted minds.  Maybe that's what draws people to gardening in the first place; the chance to dig in the dirt hearing the sounds of a trowel or shovel, birds singing nearby, and our own breathing.

Progress shouldn't be measured by all of the do-dads and gadgets we can own that noise up our world.  Progress might just as easily be measured by the moments of quiet and peace we can tolerate before we need to "hear" something.  That kind of progress in our daily walk in life yields dividends when we couple it with an openness to God. 

Our poor young people haven't learned that lesson, so if you have access to a young person, make sure to plead your case for times of quiet and silence.  Tell them to just try it for say ten minutes at a time and see if it helps them feel better in almost every way. 

Find a quiet time for yourself today, if you can, and breathe in the peace.