Quiet Time
A little bit of quiet time in 1998 with my oldest Max, pregnant with my second(Luna)!
When my children were young there was a time of day in the afternoon that I called quiet time. It was a very important time, maybe I would even venture to call it sacred. It was usually early afternoon and it was a time I would need to recharge to make it through the rest of the day without losing my mind. Full time mama-ing is no joke. I could have called it nap time but as my children got older they resisted taking naps so I just got into the habit of calling it quiet time. Then there would be no fight. They didn't have to sleep, although they often did. It's still an important part of my day now even though my youngest is fourteen. Sometimes it's just ten minutes breathing deeply, or reading a book. No talking, just listening, feeling, replenishing.
It’s wintertime. A more concentrated quiet time. A time of turning inward for me. I’m hibernating. I keep looking around and wondering if it’s time and then I realize it is not and I settle back in. More rest, more quiet, a meditative silence.
I’ve been feeling very quiet. It’s not that I don't have anything to say, it’s just that I’m keeping it in, holding back, from sharing, deciding something that I’m not sure I’ve really decided. So, I sit still and really try to listen.
It’s funny that so much happens just as winter descends upon us. Doing more and pushing ourselves to near exhaustion when we already have less energy, less sunlight. After the holidays I feel such an incredible sense of relief. Thank goodness that’s over! Then the New Year is here and there is the feeling that we have to do something big, challenge ourselves, make a dramatic change and all I want to do is crawl under a blanket with a good book.
Don’t get me wrong. The transformation is happening but it’s on the inside. I’m not in any hurry to emerge. The Omicron virus is reminding me to slow down, be still, listen. Do I need to do this now? Can I wait? Two years ago we were on this precipice and we did not know. We did not know how drastically the world was about to change. It can feel a little sad to remember how life was before. I know that is an understatement. Most of the time I try not to think about it.
I realize it is time to let go of what the world was before Covid. I know I may be way behind, I usually am. I think I can miss something and also love what is now. I love the pace of my life. The students I have met over the last two years and not just met but feel connected to, in part by the traumatic events of the last two years. I love small groups, I love knowing students' names and seeing the same faces over and over again. If you’ve been taking class with me for a while now you might have started to anticipate what I will say or do, a pause, a sigh, a laugh. You know me. I might talk about my dad, my dogs, my children, my home remodel because you are a part of my world.
As this New Year unfolds I am taking my time, putting one foot in front of the other, pausing, looking forward, back, side to side, no giant leaps. I am making little decisions which lead to other decisions and I see new possibilities presenting themselves that are not really new at all. They have been there in the back of my mind, waiting for the right time. Percolating, steeping, brewing. I feel grateful for this time of year to turn inward, reflect and then move. Enjoy the quiet.
