BY COURTNEY QUINLAN

With your ear pressed against my chest, crown resting on collarbone, cheek against breast — you would hear life. You will hear your very first sound, the steady rhythm of blood pumping through maternal bodies. Your very first introduction to music, to vibration, noise, our hearts’ beat — perhaps in unison. Perhaps in syncopation.

You listen to my ancestors — voices wrapped in and around strands of DNA. You hear a little girl on a tire swing feet stretched toward the sky. Perseid meteor shower on top of a mountain, in August, echoing from 15 years ago.

You hear the sound of glass shattering — erratic beats that represent fear, or survival or anticipation of escape.

You will hear ferns releasing spores and the dust that settles on my bookshelf, my son’s laughter, my sleepless nights and endless days…

You hear pinecones falling and pockets full of acorn caps, a deer that quietly appeared right when I needed to be awestruck. You will hear triumph and forgiveness, a subtle fierceness and loyalty.

You listen to wind howling out of the mouths of wolves, the wingtips of an owl at night. You press your head upon wonder and skin decorated with color. You hear a universe slowly expanding.

You listen to this temple, this visceral sound that knows no religion or shade of skin or gender. The same organ pumping the same oxygen-rich blood through the same constructed veins. You hear the sound we all hear.

The universal pulse.

You press your ear against the world with your eyes closed and you hear the rhythm of life.

For more self-study, The Urban Howl recommends 52 Ways to Live a Kick-Ass Life: BS-Free Wisdom to Ignite Your Inner Badass and Live the Life You Deserve.

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The She Book

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#RHYTHMOFLIFE

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