"Shhhh, quiet, please."

When I was little, I loved the library. It was a free and somewhat anonymous escape from chaos and confusion into worlds of imagination and wonder. The smell of old books was dignified and mysterious. And somehow the "shhhh" of the librarian was comforting. She guarded the silence with the fierceness of a Praetorian Guard at the gates of Rome. She knew her job was a sacred task. It took me many years to learn exactly how much so.

Today, I still love the library and frequently walk to the Decatur branch near my home. It doesn't seem as quiet these days. The librarians, no less vigilant in their friendly yet imposing watch, now have much to handle in monitoring cell phones and rebooting internet computers.

This scene is not unlike my mind most days. I frequently call on my inner librarian to quiet the rowdy revelers in my head that don't want to settle down. These self-appointed advisors arenot convinced that we'll be ok if they're off duty. But when it's quiet, the guidance I receive from connecting with self and Spirit is infinitely wiser, more adventurous, more creative, and accurate than anything I can conjure up out of my noisy brain. Probably because it bypasses the brain and comes straight from the heart--which is too polite and kind to raise its voice. So I must request, "shhhh, quiet please". I breathe in and out and listen. Sometimes I ask "what do I need to know?" Sometimes I just enjoy the quiet. The more I do it, the more I hear. And the less fearful I've become.

What's your heart whispering today?