Quiet....the Q-titude Effect

I have grown to really appreciate the quality of silence. On the evenings when my husband works (and, well, the kids are no longer at home) I envelope myself in quietness. True, there is the gentle hum of my computer and the crick crick of crickets outside and the methodical whirl of the ceiling fan. But no television. No radio. And often no music, either. Silence. And in this quiet I either read, write, or knit.

There was a time when the silence drove me batty. I had to do SOMETHING....I couldn't just be with myself and appreciate the solitude. But then I had years of kids, and husband, and TV and constant sound. Constant. And I found, while I loved having a family around and all the energy of that....I also yearned for balance, for quiet.

quiet

Quirky....I've never been one for the status quo, the norm, the usual. I've always felt a little outside of, well, everyone and everything. Quirky. Over time I've come to appreciate that about me.

Queen, as in Dairy. It's not really real ice cream, and not as delicious as the gelato store. But sometimes I just have to have a small chocolate dipped soft served DQ. Just do.

Gratitude, with a Q.

Comments

Lori said…
It is not easy to be quiet. Takes discipline.
altar ego said…
I enjoy quiet, too. And ooooh, DQ! We don't have one in town (which is probably just as well!) but when I get in a mood for one...
isn't it funny how life cycles... i've got plenty of quiet-tude happening and 'tis good. all good...
Anonymous said…
Even if you do eat wheat bread instead of squishy white bread... we may still be sisters separated at birth. Love quiet (driving to MS for 9 hours in silence). Definitely quirky (definitely high on that scale). Not a lot of DQ's around here... but I know a place that serves a chocolate, vanilla, or swirl... that's dipped!!!! Love Q!
Barbara B. said…
Yeah, quirky is good (and so are those chocolate dipped cones at DQ)!

Popular posts from this blog

The Bleeding-heart: a poem by Mary Oliver

A Funeral Sermon: Healed by Love

Luke: A Mary Oliver Poem