Silence is Green

12 10 2011

I appreciate that I am presently in a place where English is not the native language, but I was never as sure that things get lost in translation as I was today.

We Honor Silence

These words were carved into the rustic and beautiful sign bearing the name of the resort spa, welcoming me to my massage appointment this morning. I was greeted softly by a woman, who gestured for me to complete a general health form and wait for my masseuse, Jocasta.

Out through a lush garden, we went to a private cabana, all dark wood plantation shutters with thatched roof and an enormous lazy white ceiling fan over a pristine massage table. Comfortably settled on the table, cooling mask over my eyes, serene music gently wafted over the sea-scented breeze  .  .  . 

PUTTPUTTBUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

 As soon as that lawn tractor lumbered by, followed by gas-powered string trimmer accompanying the whine of a distant chainsaw, I realized just how differently the spa’s premise could be interpreted!  There is apparently a loophole in the code of honoring silence in this idyllic place – groundskeeping workers are exempt!I giggled, then fell silently into the rhythm of the treatment, realizing that, for me, landscaping tools sing a siren song.

Noise to my ears brought quiet to my mind.  I can honor that silence.

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