Have you ever noticed how much easier it is to focus, think like yourself, act like yourself when there is quiet? It gives me a cushion to stop and regroup, to evaluate, to think before I act or speak. When there is quiet, as in the early morning before every one awakes, it is so much easier to be the person I want to be. I set goals, make daily promises to be gentler, plan my day. I can hear myself think, in the quiet, so I can easily access those nuggets of wisdom that are floating around my mind.
It is when things are decidedly not quiet that I fall away. There are people talking to me, more than one at a time. There is loud music and even louder fighting. The sound of the aluminum play pots and pans hitting the linoleum for the hundredth time and there is absolutely no cushion to gather my thoughts. I react. I create quiet by running into a bathroom, or stepping outside, or barking orders that give me silence for a brief moment.
So, I need to give myself some quiet to check in and see what my internal dialogue really sounds like. I can have very nice, constructive conversations with myself to gear up the resolve to press through the chaotic loud moments coming soon. In the quiet, senses are heightened and I am that much closer to being the better version of me. This weekend, to celebrate our anniversary, Rich and I road-tripped to the Laurentians for some much needed quiet together.
My best friends watched my girls for me (which is a really big deal, hardly anyone wants to watch them all overnight!), and we hit the road. We had good talks with long pauses and time to quietly reflect before answering questions or proposing ideas. We reconnected in ways we have not been able to at home. We celebrated eight years of marriage by clinking glasses of wine from the vineyard we visited on our honeymoon in Kelowna. We relaxed together, and deepened our bond. This was luxurious, to me.
Our destination was equally lux. We stayed at an auberge with a nordic spa system, in-room jacuzzis and fireplaces, all set back in the woods with a beautiful brook running through. Our balcony went right over the water, filling our quiet space with the most tranquil sound I'd heard in months. We could hear ourselves think again. Instead of having broken conversations over clearing the dishes or bathing little bodies, we could just sit, float, smile serenely and exhale. Getting to do just one thing at a time (or absolutely nothing!) without another demand placed on me in immediate succession was such a reprieve.
We enjoyed our getaway and our picturesque trip back through the mountains and into Ottawa, back to our girls who had been so well taken care of. We found a new desk for Abby's room, so she can do her homework, art pieces and (swoon!) writing in peace and quiet.