I’ve been sitting in my living room listening to the quiet. These quiet times are are rare and are something I truly treasure. They are a balm to my soul.
I live in a noisy home. It seems as though there is always something going on. The music my entire family loves to listen to to blasts through every room. It can be anything from Zeppelin to Sinatra to the latest pop sensation…it’s always loud. The dogs are barking, the cats cry to be fed and people…just talk. It’s just normal life, I’m sure it is much the same in most households.
Yet, something inside of me craves peace and quiet.
As I sit in the quiet morning hour, breathing in the heavenly sent of my freshly brewed coffee and savoring it’s bitter taste, I realize that it’s not entirely quiet. I listen to the gentle tapping of the rain falling on my roof. It’s a sound I never paid much attention to, but I’ve come to love since we’ve moved to Seattle. I can feel the vibrations of one of our cats as she purrs on my lap. My sweet Sam sits at my feet, gently snoring, his ears twitching every time I move.
I take a moment to gaze out the window beside me, pleased with my blooming garden. My herbs, the lavender, basil and thyme are thriving. The happy faced pansies, hot pink germaniums and wild roses are drinking in the falling rain. It amazes me that, despite my brown thumb, they are all flourishing.
I hear someone stirring in one of the bedrooms. My heart sinks as I realize that it’s time for the day to begin. Then I realize that after my few moments of quiet solitude, I’m ready to face it, and all the racket that comes with it.
All is well in my world…