Pain that cannot forget, falls drop by drop upon the heart,
and in our sleep, against our will, comes wisdom through the
awful grace of God.
~ Aeschylus
There is the silence in which everything exists, and then there is the noise in my head that I have come to take as the natural background to my life. It has occurred to me that perhaps the trick is to begin to see the silence as the background and the noise as moving across it. The silence, the plain existence of things, is what is real; the thoughts are clouds.