eric mccarty
2 min readNov 21, 2022
Cherished — Prose Poetry — Headless Now — Meditation — Moca McCarty Photo


some morning are quieter than others, my mantra seemingly leading me to greater depths of meditation and silence, outside sounds more subtle in their arrival. Yes, these are the mornings that I most love, feeling undisturbed by any passing thought, peaceful, content to simply sit and let words find me for early writing. Yet not every morning is like this, I live with someone who has a love of television through all hours, often waking at a similar time to match my meditation and writing, even though it’s well before the first hint of dawn. As well, my house is not remote, a street directly behind my meditation/writing room, traffic though odd hours, music often playing loud, an occasional siren nearby. Not all the time, but often enough for their to be a comparison of noise to my most cherished quiet mornings.

and all of this is fine.

those quiet mornings now cherished even more in their appreciation, that they are gifted, and not to be taken for granted by their presence. More so, I’ve come to note the degrees of silence offered, how there’s always an underlying quality to the acceptance of sound, grace, never once a rejection of whatever’s played through its ever present hold. That’s the end result of every meditation really, reaching this depth, this all accepting field of silence. I believe that this is really what’s most cherished, and that it’s always available, offered to me at every moment and that it’s foolish of me to not recognize this through any amount of sound.

silence is always present, not exclusive to my most cherished mornings, but here, now, and only waiting to be recognized through its disguise of sound and noise. There is no need for me to chase this, waking earlier and earlier to escape certain sounds, although I’ll always give my preference to those cherished, more quiet mornings. They are a gift after all, and will always hold a certain ease for me, a comfort and calm to start my day.

and with this I’m able to accept whatever comes each morning….

knowing that the true depth of silence, is always immediately found.


Peace, Eric



eric mccarty

Writer, prose poetry, meditation teacher and lifetime student