Are you listening?

I went on a four mile run yesterday.  Well, let's be honest, I walked more than half of it.  I've never been much of a runner and I've let my fitness go lately, so pair those together and it was a struggle for me.  But I know that any journey begins with one step, and the fact that I did four miles--whether or not I had to do it in intervals--was an accomplishment.  
I took the path behind our house towards a State Park nearby.  The path is about 1.75 miles to the entrance of the park, all of it paved.  It follows the creek that runs behind our home so it's very convenient.
It is also beautiful and serene.  There is a multitude of wildlife (including the coyotes that snatched our neighbor's dog and ate it last year) and the sound of the rushing water is calming.  I was never one that liked to run/bike/rollerblade next to traffic;  it's counterintuitive to think that breathing faster and deeper is healthier when you are next to car smog.  Thankfully, this path is next to traffic for only a short time.
I had my iPod (yes, I finally gave in to popular culture on that) and was really enjoying the upbeat workout music.  I've found that having music with a faster beat than my normal walking pace is a great motivator and keeps me from getting lazy.  
When I got to the entrance of the state park, I felt the need to remove the earbuds and listen to more nature.  I veered off onto a dirt road that leads toward the dog park area.  I stopped when I could see the dogs on the horizon and plopped myself right down in the middle of the prairie grasses.
The ground was just barely damp and bustling with activity from worker ants to buzzing bees.  The prairie grasses were about 12" tall and sprinkled with wildflowers.  The aroma was a mixture of wet earth, wildflowers and the air after a rainfall.  
I bowed my head to pray.  I've been doing more of that lately, taking more time to pray.  I rarely ask for something specific, just for God to lead me to His will and help me find my mission.   As I was finishing my prayer, I started to hear more sounds beneath those I'd heard before.   I could hear at least 5 different bird calls, someone shooting at a range in the distance, a woman with dogs walking, but what hit me the most was the sound of the prairie grass.
It startled me at first because it almost sounded like someone walking toward me.   I sat still and focused until I could pinpoint the sound.  It was right next to me, in the grass.  It was the sound of one blade of grass rubbing against another...or four or five.  
I sat there quiet and still for at least 15 minutes before a woman and her dogs approached.  One dog ran straight to me and started sniffing, seeming rather startled by me.  I let him sniff me for a minute then put out my hand to him.  He was very friendly and accepted the affection.
The lady said, "It's unusual to see anyone out here sitting on the ground in the grass!"  That explained why the dog was a little startled.  I told her that I really just wanted to stop and take it all in, to hear the sounds and experience the smells.  She said her brother had read a book about the 12 types of quiet (I haven't been able to find anything related to this) and that she realizes that few people are able to hear quiet.  She was very kind and said she'd let me get back to the quiet before the trail became too busy for solitude.
I sat there for a few minutes longer.  I could now hear more people and dogs and realized my quiet solitude was ending.  I stood up, brushed myself off, put the earbuds back in my ears, and began to run for home.
The entire time, though, I couldn't stop thinking about what it meant to accept quiet into our lives.  How many of us are really able to just sit, relax, meditate and ponder?
I recently attended the seminar "Face to Face with Greatness: A Thomas Jefferson Education."  Along with the many other invaluable things I learned, one was about discovering your mission.  I've always been a firm believer in knowing your mission, but I haven't always been sure of mine.  Motherhood, of course, is one and teaching my children is another.  The professor presenting the seminar asked us if we've ever sat, quietly, and asked God to help us find and fulfill our mission?    Have we ever been quiet enough to hear it?
As I sat still in the meadow and listened...really listened...those words hit home.  I haven't been listening to the sound of the blowing prairie grass.  Perhaps if I can do that on a regular basis, things will become clearer.
Remember the lady with the dogs?  Although I started down the same path just minutes later, I never saw her again.  She wasn't running, just walking leisurely.  I kept looking for her.