I've been scheduled to teach skiing this whole week. I'm never guaranteed a lesson, so I go in to work not knowing if I'll be getting to work or not. If I don't, I'm free to go ski, but it's busy right now. The week after Christmas is one of the mountain's busiest times.
So it's not quiet, in other words. It can seem like there's a lot of turbulence, what with the crowds and the getting in to work and the lessons or sometimes, maybe, the standing there until I'm dismissed.
But whatever turbulence there is, it's just on the surface. Below it is the mountain itself, placid as … well, as placid as a mountain is. We intrude on its consciousness to about the same extent as individual motes of dust intrude on ours.
I told you I practiced putting things down this sabbatical. And I admitted I have a tendecy to pick things back up when I'm not paying attention.
I'm not making it hard, though. I just put that stuff down again. It's easy to tap back into an energy of quiet and ease when I get to stand on a mountain all day.