A Ripple in Time

There's this humming in my room.  A constant humming.  I never noticed it was there until it stopped just now.  And then the silence was so loud, it almost descended upon me.  Deafening.  Beautiful.  Now I hear the whizzing of cars past my room.  Outside my window.  The world out there.

Silence is palpable today.  Today is Holocaust Memorial day in Israel.  From sunset to sunset, many things shut down.  And early this morning a siren went off in the city.  Alerting everyone to pause.  To take a moment.  To reflect.  To remember.  Cars stopped at the curbs and drivers got out.  Bowed their heads in silence.  In memoriam.  

A quick moment.  But a deeply moving one.

Yesterday, I experienced the most deeply moving moment in my own life.  

Two days ago, Baha'i delegates from all over the world, members of the National Spiritual Assemblies of over 150 countries, came to the Holy Land to elect the Universal House of Justice, and yesterday the results were announced.  The anticipation had been building and I was excited for the moment of the announcement, but altogether unprepared for how powerful it would be.  The names were announced simply, in a dignified manner, and each went up to the stage quietly, reverently, with bowed head.  The humility of that elected body as it stood before us, the absolute humility of Mr. Mitchell and Mr. Grossman as they said their goodbyes--it was astonishing.  More powerful and moving than anything I'd ever before witnessed.  Not a dry eye in that auditorium.

This entire convention has been blessing upon blessing.  To be able to meet people from every corner of the globe.  To run into old friends.  To spend time with some people who I personally admire and respect so much.  To feel confirmations about certain future decisions.  To spend time in the holy places with my parents.  Blessing upon blessing. 

Still, the humming is stilled.  I wonder when the drone of unknown noises will pick up again. When stolen moments and silent reveries will fade away and linger on only as memories of a ripple in time.