From silence comes creation. From non-being emerges being. Life is in the intervals; those acquiescent moments when temporal and material boundaries are dissolved.
How much we hurry; how much we bustle; how much we scurry. Switch off or silence the phone; switch off the TV; disregard the "outside" world; only allow precisely that which you wish to allow into your universe, even if only for an hour. This is a form of mundane meditation, and in Eastern ontology is the route through which you find your very being itself.
In a sound recording, the term describing the variation in relative volume level from the faintest sounds through to the loudest peaks is called the dynamic range. Allowing periods of minimal input into your life expands the "dynamic range" of your life. Here in the modern world one of the discordant problems is that we're constantly subjected to an overload of noise in innumerable forms; and not just sonically either, as much in terms of "information noise".
Perhaps this is the aspect I find worst about those busy periods at work when you have long days, and little time outside except to eat and sleep. I begin to suffer an immense life fatigue, or perhaps it would be more accurate to say I suffer an immense lack-of-life fatigue. Constantly rushing around, doing one thing or the other, endless background noise and invasive viral-like advertising; visual and aural.
And so it is a treat indeed to have a weekend off work, and experience that wonderful phenomenon that only occurs at the weekend when you live in a suburban area, namely an ambient stillness and quietness, coupled with a cherished lack of any things that I'm particularly required to do. So I get to do "nothing"; which is very much far from nothing. Enjoy some fine music playing away quietly, lazily get up out of bed at a schedule determined by my body rather than external circumstances, and find a few words to flow out onto this blog.
This is indeed a fine morning; the cold, dark fogginess outside merely lifts my spirits, for it carries a primeval essence that reminds us how brief these citadels we've constructed really are, and how quickly they could disappear; for if humanity simply ceased to exist, in a million years there would be little evidence remaining, and this would be merely a blink on a geological timescale.
The fog however, would quite simply remain.