[I've been waiting all day for this moment: quietly perched on our sofa in the kitchen, my fingers ready to spill out over the keys all the words that have written themselves in my mind today...]
For a few days now I've been musing about quiet and why we need more of it. What's so great about quiet, anyway? I can't even begin to extol its virtues and the many gifts it brings to my life. On a basic level, quiet is where my nervous system regulates. When I find a quiet space - even a corner in a bustling room will do - I can breathe more deeply. There is such a healing magic in the power of a deep inhale, then exhale, over and over and over again. And as I'm breathing, I can close my eyes, and feel my feet on the ground. I can be present in a way that I am unable to in the busy-ness of my life. And when I'm present, I can be myself. I like myself when I'm quiet. I'm the me that I would love to be able to bring to all the moments of my life.
Quiet is where my dreams live. And it's where my life is born. I made the decision to open my own business quietly, on my own, in the dark, in front of a campfire. I believe I met my beloved AH because one quiet night I sat and wrote a list of all the things I longed for in a mate. This blog exists because I had a moment of such deep quiet that I could hear God's voice whisper, "you will write, and it will be a blog, and you'll call it this quiet life." (imagine my surpise and delight later that day when I searched this url and found it was available!)
When I can be quiet, and still, my mind slows down. This in itself is a huge gift, because my mind is always on the go. It's always trying to figure out what's next, what the right answer is, and how something could be better/different/improved upon. In the quiet, I give myself permission to let things be and to let go of the need to direct the outcome of every single event on the face of planet earth.
In the quiet, my memories come to visit. Happy moments, sad ones, and all the ones in between. I have a mind that takes pictures of every event of my life, and so I can spend a happy hour revisiting a movie of my life without ever taking out my phone or opening my computer. (Ask me how often I do this, however? Not often enough!)
I'm a better human being and a better wife when I get my quiet time. Being quiet fills my tank in a way that nothing else ever could. And if you give me a cup of coffee and my kitchen sofa while I bathe in silence, it's as good as standing in the forest or being out on the bay on my paddle board.
Quiet is more than the opposite of noisy. Quiet is a choice. It's a decision. It's a state of being that isn't an accident. Sometimes we're lucky and quiet finds us, but more often we have to search it out. We have to welcome it in, and sometimes we have to schedule it. I'm ready for so much more of it. And to discover new joys in it.
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