Guest Post by Dennis Ernst
The sky is just beginning to warm above the eastern mountains. Wisps of clouds catch the first colors of the sunrise, painted against a deep blue-black expanse of night sky. I walk in silence, breathing the rich desert air, absorbed in the fullness of the moment.
There was a time when I would sing HU — an ancient word for God or spirit, sometimes called a love song to the divine. This is a way to connect with my inner worlds and my true self. For a deaf man who cannot hear his own voice, trying to sing to yourself is a bit comical. Over time, I worked with something inward, a resonance, that felt more than heard. Eventually, that too fell away. Not lost — outgrown, the way a shell is outgrown.
