Listen to the wind, it talks. Listen to the silence, it speaks. Listen to your heart, it knows. Native American Proverb
Time spent worrying about the next steps and places on the journey can expend an extraordinary amount of energy. In reflection, we see it wasn’t really the worrying that propelled the change, but rather, it was the listening. Listen. Shhhhh.
First, in silence and in gratitude, we must ask for what we are seeking, whatever it might be— change, direction, patience. And then we must listen. And listening isn’t always with the ears. Sometimes it’s with the eyes or the heart. We receive a nudge, feel it in the gut —trusting the very message itself, even if its source is unexplainable.
And then a decision — to act. That feeling just at the edge of the lily pad, the one that feels reckless, but hopeful. That absolute leap of faith. A nod to the Universe — “I heard.”
In one job, at one place for many years with a two mile, five minute commute, the past year found me restless and wondering. I knew I had so much more to offer than my current position had room and resources for. By late autumn, the nudges were persistent — and there was no turning back. It was on the way toward me. Listen. Listen.
On January 1 – there it was! The online posting was written for me. When a knowing is so strong you fasten your seatbelt and get in the fast lane. I applied the next day. In one week I had completed two phone interviews. The following week I was in a day-long, multi-group interview process. The next week a beautiful offer letter.
I gave my two weeks notice and prepared to leave all I knew of a two decade job, my colleagues, my resources – knowing that I fully left it all on the table — dedication, compassion and teamwork.
I hitched up my wagon and picked up my stakes— gathered up many blessings, above all, memories where my lifelong friendships took root as a 17-year-old freshman years ago. Through the sifter I let flow things too heavy to transport on to the next journey.
And on Valentine’s Day, my last day, with a brilliant late day sun greeting me, I walked quietly across campus. Forward march….
Three days later, I headed North on the commuter rail – a one hour plus traverse into the vibrant, pulsing city. Without hesitation. As this was the answer to my months-long prayer “please, place me where my hands can best serve” — and life came full circle once again.
On a snowy Monday morning, I walked up those familiar stairs to the college where I began years ago as a graduate student and young professional. Returning to roll up my sleeves and to give back. Whispers of welcome from across a campus so familiar to me—from my own time and of my daughter’s, hers only a few years ago. Home. Return. Belong.
Photo credit: Mike Guarneri, Long Island Sound sunset