Sitting around the table enjoying tea, my friend says, “I thought we might walk the horses down to the cafe.” No words are needed; smiles abound. This is precisely the kind of day that fills my cup and gratitude bubbles up from within.
We all walk out onto the land, ropes and head collars in hand, our joint collection of dogs jumping around in excitement. Even my much slower 17-year-old dog, Milla, can feel the energy. My daughter, Isabella, hops up onto one of the horses, me and my friend walking the other two in hand. Their contented nickering makes me fuzzy inside and I feel a sense of privilege to be walking side by side.
The country roads are quiet, nothing but the rustle of leaves and the bark of a dog. We stroll alongside pastures and woodland into a village of stone houses superimposed against a breathtaking mountain backdrop. I am at peace. The rhythmic clip-clop of hooves on cobbles, scampering dogs, Milla trundling along in her “chariot;” happy to still be getting out into the world despite her elderly limbs.
Arriving at the bar we tie the horses up and enjoy 65 cent expressos outside in the pleasant winter air, laughing at the dramas that unfold between restless steeds and a geriatric dog. But there is an overall feeling of calm; an observance that this is what life should be about:
Steadiness, slowness, appreciation, a sense of time having no hold.
And silence. Silence is the order of the day.
It’s easy to fear it—always rushing to fill the gaps—but silence is where beauty is for me. Within silence is where my breathing slows and my soul comes alive. In silence I am able to both meet myself and see others.
These few weeks in Portugal have seen me sign out more than I thought I might and I’m not sure I want to sign back in. The world can be overwhelming with so much information and inspiration at every turn, so this winter I have enjoyed retreating into the space of silence, to slowly nurture seeds of dreams from deep within my own heart.
There are, of course, moments when I wonder if I should be more productive but pondering this as I pat my friend’s horse on our journey home from the cafe, I look out towards the sun dipping behind a field—golden, glowing, all-knowing—and I feel a deep sense of trust; that I am right to be pulled into these precious pockets of silence because it is here that the gentle growth towards spring dreams, begins.
I would love to know how you are caring for yourself this winter! Do you, too, see it as a time for restorative pastimes, or are you filled with boundless energy? Do share in the comments!
As a side note, my wonderful yoga school — Happy Jack Yoga University — is running a restorative yoga course “live” this week (but you can also self-study it at any point in the year). If you’re seeking an opportunity to treat yourself with love and gentleness, I encourage you to sign up for a free taste of this experience from the beautiful soul that is Happy Hanna!
Silence in Portugal