Silence is to be able to contemplate the small, the tiny, the insignificant, and find the image of its beauty within yourself.
As much as that sounds like a quote from somebody famously enlightened, that just came from me. And I absolutely refuse to carry on the internet tradition of assigning fake quotes to famous names.
Besides, I truly mean it.
I clicked that photo yesterday, just as the sun was coming up on a rare snowy day in the Deep American South. I was enchanted by that flock of clover sticking up from the snow, like nothing could keep it down. It was intent on being a bright burst of color in the white landscape.
There was nobody else out that early, with the temperature in the frigid lower teens (-10°C, for those unfamiliar with the Fahrenheit scale). It was quiet and beautiful. Peacefully serene. I could hear myself think, and that is always a good feeling.
Yesterday wasn’t a particularly great day for me. The cold and frequent fluctuations in the weather had me achy at best, and spasming at worst. But that moment of tranquility, as the sun came up and reflected its colors on the snow, was one to cherish.
That moment was my own bright burst of color for the day. I could feel its beauty and peace. It was my private escape into silence.
Chronic illness transforms us in many ways. For thanksgiving, I chose to focus on the good ways that Fibromyalgia has transformed me, as I reminisced about my life in general.
Just a few years ago, I was a high-energy person with no time nor thought for anything but to get ahead in the world. Yet now, I am a much calmer, more “centered” soul who is reconnecting with her old timey loves.
Until I came down with fibro, it had been years since I had read purely for pleasure, though reading used to be my favorite hobby through much of my childhood! Always an inward-leaning and introspective child at my core, I incorporated my thoughts and feelings into my art (I did watercolors back then) as well as the poetry and fiction I would write for myself.
Later in middle school, I was the student reporter for the school-beat of the local daily, and contributed towards the school magazine in high school. I remember a particular editorial I once wrote about anxiety, depression and suicidal thoughts among students, and how the current education system in my country handled the issue poorly, not to mention the social taboo it was to even talk about it!
I lost touch with all of that once I got into college. Perhaps because of various new stresses and changes in my life at the time, I transformed into a much more “outward”-oriented person. I wanted to make the most of my experience in a new country, new environment; I wanted to soak up all the opportunities I suddenly had which I couldn’t have dreamed of before! Always an ambitious person, I finally saw the roads which could lead me to the success I sought! My definition of success was complicated; it definitely included job satisfaction and doing what I loved, but I also wanted money, position, autonomy, and a certain rank in the hierarchy of society. And I was going to work hard to make sure I did not waste the chances I was granted to attain it.
Though I am glad I got to chase my dreams and live that fast-paced life for several years, I am equally glad for being able to slow down as I developed fibromyalgia. Now I am finally able to reconnect with the pleasures of my childhood:
I am finally able to enjoy quiet moments reading at my leisure, or lost in thought as I write just for pleasure. I learned to paint in oils (one of my childhood dreams), and express my emotions through my paintings. (And that little rhyme was a nod to my childhood poetic musings, though I do little of that now.)
I am glad that even when I am stuck in bed, I can now find joy just watching the golden sunlight dancing on my walls, making patterns as the light passes through the blinds or filtered through the warm, fall-colored, translucent curtains.
I am glad that I am now able to delve more into photography and art, as I had always hoped to do more with those! There is something flighty and fun about stopping the car at random places to photograph a particularly beautiful purple leaf. Or simply walking around the park and admiring how the leaves on the shade-side of the maple turned red, but the light-side remained green. Or just finding a sudden glimmer of magic as the sunshine gleams through some colored leaves!
I gained all this and more as I let go of the person that I was before fibro!
And I am grateful for the opportunity to find a more authentic person hidden inside me, who is encouraged everyday to live a more authentic life, and all because of fibro!