Today I had the most joyful day, and then much to my dismay, I needed quiet…
The desire I have for quiet and solitude has crept up on me and to be honest, perplexed me. It’s a dichotomy. On the one hand, I am energized and motivated by interactions with others, especially my immediate family. On the other hand, once I have been filled up with that interaction, I have the opposing and frustrating need to seek solace.
What is this desire to hear nothing but Quiet?
I recently spent the day with my son, Liam, and really had the best day. We drove to the garden center with the sun roof open and windows down, music blaring, wind blowing in our ears, so very little talking was occurring. At the garden center, we checked with google and each other about how best to plant a vegetable garden - raised beds, pots? We picked the best vegetable plants and a few lovely scented perennials. (I’m in the mood to activate both my touch and smell senses apparently).
I got to see my girl Kym, whom I have not seen in months, even before this virus. I had to hug her. I know, you can judge me, but it was just on impulse, totally didn’t mean to do it and when we both realized what we had done, we quickly pulled away, looked around and giggled, especially given we were both wearing masks she had made. I miss her. I miss hugs. I miss seeing smiles up close.
Liam and I drove back pretty much the same way we drove there – music filling the space, me occasionally annoying him with pre-emptive advice about speed limit slowing down, a cop on the road, get in this lane because the other lane ends, etc… We spent the rest of the afternoon planting the vegetable garden together in a raised bed, and getting the lovely smelling perennials near the deck so we could smell them when we were lounging. Liam said multiple times, “this is fun, we should do this more often”. I couldn’t have agreed more. The sun was just lighting us up with joy, as was the touching of the soil and the plants. It was… a series of “moments”. I felt God smiling down on us, saying, “See? You could have been doing this all along”. When we finished, my heart was full, and I felt content.
After the fun was over and dinner was put away, maddeningly, all I could think about was getting some quiet. I felt pangs of guilt and wondered why I would desire to be away from them given the joy I felt at that moment. The first pang of guilt subsided when Liam hightailed it to his room. I chuckled, thinking of how similar this kid is to me in terms of his need to retreat. He has his fill, and then he’s done.
Bob still needed time with me, so I stuffed that desire for quiet and attempted to re-connect with him by watching our favorite series, still wondering why there seemed to be a time limit on my desire to spend time with my family, still toying with feelings of guilt and talking myself out of them. The wine helped with endeavor, just saying. Eventually, after fulfilling his need to lounge together on the couch, I sent Bob to bed, agreeing with him “my goodness, you really do look tired, babe”. And he did, but also, I still longed for quiet.
Or… was it that I longed to be alone? For a fleeting moment, I considered watching Mrs. Maizel, for a good laugh and observations of interesting family dynamics. God was still reaching out to me though, and I was listening. I chose to set the stage for reflection and hopefully, positive vibes. I filled a foot bath with magnesium and essential oils. I knew I had to make the most of this time so I picked Rose essential oil, an oil that immediately connects me to my heart and spirit.
Inhaling deeply, the day’s scenes slowly shuffled before me. I saw Liam’s smile and his curly chestnut hair with a tint of gold on the tips of several curls. I felt the air in my lungs from the breeze and the heat from the sun on my shoulders. God, it has been soooo long since I’ve felt that.
I smelled the earthy scent of the soil and the herbal scent of the salvia, the sweet of the lavender we planted. I continued my oil touch routine, and as soon as I rolled that special oil on my chest and heart, I knew.
I knew… that in order to find the most meaning in how wonderful my day was, I needed to process it. When I was in it, I felt the joy, but I was not able to feel other emotions. It was pure joy in the moment, but I wanted to make more meaning of the experience. I knew that God had whispered to me to lift those guilty feelings and help me fulfill my heart’s needs – I longed for solitude so that I could imprint the experience in my brain and in my heart so powerfully that I would find a way to do it again. And I wanted to truly feel grateful, not the grateful that we say we feel when we pray, not the one that we label when we list all the things that are supposed to make us grateful, but the real grateful – the one you feel in your chest, the one that slows your heart down, the one the stops your brain from fluttering from subject to subject, and just focuses on the emotion. That’s the emotion I wanted to feel.
And Gratefully, I felt.
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