Silent Confession - Ch 9

Sometimes, the most profound answers are found in the silence shared between friends.

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Previous chapter is HERE.

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As the sun sets over Echo Canyon, Val opens up to Raven about her struggle to find purpose after leaving behind the life she once knew. In the stillness of the desert, the two women share an unexpected moment of connection, one that may just light the way forward for them both.

Raven and Val were sitting comfortably in silence on Raven’s porch. One would think they’d been friends for years even though they had met only a week ago.

Seeing that Raven was deep in her thoughts, Val got up from her rocking chair and leaned against the wooden railing, gazing at the sprawling ranch. The wind tugged at her hair, but it couldn’t shake the weight pressing down on her chest. Somehow, this place brought disquieting thoughts to the forefront of her mind. She’d come to Sabáka seeking peace, hoping the quiet of the desert would somehow fill the empty spaces inside her. But so far, all she’d found was more silence. More emptiness.

She took a deep breath, the words rising in her throat before she could stop them from interrupting Raven’s thoughts.

“Raven, I’ve been here for almost two years now, and I still don’t know what I’m doing,” she began, her voice faltering. “I thought leaving nursing would be freeing—that I’d finally have the space to figure out what I really wanted. But instead, I feel… lost. It’s like I’ve walked off the path I’ve always known, and now I can’t find my way back.”

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Her hands gripped the wooden rail tightly as if holding onto something—anything—would keep her from unraveling completely. “Nursing gave me purpose, something to wake up for every day. And the farm… it was home. There was always work to be done, family to care for, and a rhythm of life I could count on. But now… it’s all gone. And I don’t know how to move forward. I don’t know if I can.”

Val’s voice cracked, and she fought to hold back the tears stinging her eyes. “I thought I’d come here, retire, and find some kind of peace, but it’s like the more time passes, the more I feel like I’m fading. I see this beautiful place, and all I feel is empty.”

Her breath hitched as she continued, the words pouring out like a confession. “I look at you, Raven, with all your plans, and it’s inspiring, but it just makes me feel even more lost. I’ve always had direction and always known what I wanted. And now? Now, I don’t know who I am anymore. I’m supposed to have it all figured out, especially at my age. But I don’t. And it scares me that I might never find that sense of purpose again.”

Her voice dropped to a whisper, the vulnerability cutting through the air like a sharp edge. “I’m drifting, Raven, and I don’t know how to stop.”

Raven watched her new friend, the weight of Val’s words settling between them. She had gotten up from her seat while Val was talking. She reached out, resting a steady hand on Val’s shoulder, grounding her in that moment.

“Val,” Raven said gently, “I hear you. And I’ve been there. Feeling lost… like everything that once defined you has slipped away. It’s terrifying. But admitting that? It’s the first step.”

She paused, letting the silence fill the space, giving Val time to breathe. “I don’t have all the answers; neither of us do. Life has a way of pushing us in directions we never expected. Sometimes, the emptiness you feel now is making room for something new—something you can’t see yet.”

Raven’s gaze swept the horizon, then returned to Val. “When I started thinking about turning this place into a training facility, I didn’t know if it would work. Hell, I still don’t know. But I knew I had to try. Step by step, I followed what felt right. You don’t need a grand plan to start moving forward. Just follow the small sparks that light your way.

“My grandmother used to say, ‘When you can’t find the path ahead, sit with the earth beneath you. The ground holds memories, and the wind carries whispers. The way will reveal itself, but only when you stop trying to force it into view.’”

Raven’s voice softened as she continued, “You don’t need to rush. Let yourself sit with what’s here now, and trust that when it’s time, the next step will show itself.”

Val listened, Raven’s words a balm to her aching soul, though they didn’t remove the fear. But for the first time in a long time, she felt a flicker of something—hope, maybe. It was faint, but it was there.

Raven’s voice softened. “You’ve spent your whole life caring for others, Val. Now it’s time to figure out what brings you joy. It might not be what you expect and takes time, but that’s okay. This is your chance to explore. You don’t need to have all the answers right now.”

Val nodded, the knot in her chest loosening ever so slightly. Raven hadn’t fixed her problems, but her words had given her permission to stop trying to have everything figured out and to take it slow. To let herself be lost, if only for a bit longer.

Raven smiled, a spark of mischief in her eyes. “Now, how about that ride? I also want to tell you about the open house I’m considering.”

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