The home I live in is situated in such a way that when the wind blows it catches every corner, every inlet, every overhang and uses the entire house to whistle loud and long. It is especially noticeable in my little sitting room, where I have my comfy chair, footrest and a little table for my coffee. It is the perfect place to tap away on my computer while Murray cozies up on the ottoman, leaving me just enough space for my feet. I think he believes it is his chair and ottoman, and I am in the way.
The wind is howling this morning, a cold front must have moved in overnight. It has an eerie yet adventurous quality to it. You can’t predict what it will sound like moment to moment. All you can do is ride the reverberation, allowing it to blow through you. It whines low and long, a steady whirring, then all of sudden, the pitch gets higher, louder and more powerful, finally reaching a feverish peak and you wonder if the door will suddenly fly open from the strength of the gale force.
It reminds me of those National Geographic shows where a few brave souls have hunkered down for the night in a microscopic sized tent precariously perched on the side of a glacier as they try to reach the pinnacle of Mt. Everest, and all you can hear is the wind doing it’s best to blow them off the mountain, as if to say, “Get off my land!”
I close my eyes and listen to the wind. I love doing this. I get lost in the roar and rush. If I sit quietly long enough I can let go – allowing the wind to pull me, rather than trying to follow it with my mind. I have become a kite, waving my coat of many colors in the sky, journeying up and down and all around, making dancing shadows on the ground below. No longer am I listening with my ears, my heart has taken over imagining me unfettered by the trappings of old stories alive in my mind. I flit about aimlessly, my tail dancing and skipping, weightless, forever carried to new heights by the ever-present unseen. Soaring higher, I see can see the never-ending edge of my world.
Wind, unlike earth, fire and water, can’t be seen, but it can be felt and heard. Air represents all that I cannot see: my soul, my heart, the spirit world. It is invisible, unpredictable, playful, soothing, destructive, inspiring and life giving. Even though I can’t see it or grasp it, its effects are visible – the ripple upon the water, fallen leaves dancing in a circle, the torrents from a tornado, the shaking window in my bedroom from the gusting. I can see it in words like spirit, aspire and inspire, empowering words calling me to unseen new heights, a new vision, inviting me to see the visible effects of my own life on the lives of others.
There’s something about closing my eyes and hearing the wind blow through me that gives me comfort and brings me peace, awakening the playful nature of my innocence. It reminds me I am part of a greater whole, because just as quickly as this wind blew through my life, it will surely blow through another’s. I don’t know where it came from and I don’t know where it’s going, but another life on this planet will connect with it just as I did, this I know.
I heard someone talking the other day about the idea of “believing is seeing.” It’s a wonderful evolution from “seeing is believing.” The idea is that if we believe, then we will see what is ours to see, we will see in manifest form our world according to our beliefs. Yet I can’t help but I wonder if there isn’t more. Maybe “believing is hearing.” When I listen, not with my ears, but with my whole being, the activity of spirit is brought to life for me, and it is just as real as the howling, singing sounds outside the comfort of my home.
I close my eyes and listen. It’s not about seeing, but about believing because I took the time to listen and follow the wind calling me to new heights. It’s because I took the time to allow the music of the air to blow through me, to waft all around me and to breath through me creating ripples across the lives of others. All because this morning I decided to take the time to allow that ever-present unseen to lift me and carry me to an ever-greater reality just beyond the edge of what I can see. A reality that can only be reached through listening.