by Carla McKenzie When I stop my frantic action, I realise I am tired and seek rest. In this need for rest, I find that I can do the simplest things; I can drink in some air, I can take note of what is around me. Try taking a walk somewhere where there is spring green. Take a look at the depths simply in the colour green around you. Find somewhere quiet to sit and try to work your way through each part of this meditation: Quiet. My soul longs to drink in huge gulps of it. Peace. One of the deepest yearnings of my heart. “My peace I give you, my peace I leave you.” Stillness. Take some slower breaths to realise how close it is. Presence. Perhaps God is simply Presence? “I Am.” Listen. For silence is not the absence of noise, quiet is learning to listen. As I breath in and out, I review. Quiet. Peace. Stillness. Presence. Listen. God is there in the quiet, that still small voice. There in the green, the unfathomable depths. I come in silence, and in the silence, I learn to listen. About the Author Carla Mckenzie I am an adult convert to Catholicism, which happened much to my own surprise and that of those around me. I live in a vibrant catholic student community and am studying medicine, which occupies much of my time and thoughts. The rest I spend balancing my desire to read the omnipresent pile of books next to my bed and spending time with family and friends, being outdoors: hiking and surfing. I love the church most for its misfit mystics and eccentric saints, and for being able to follow Pope Francis on Twitter.