I’ve taken some quiet time lately. Saying less, listening more. unplugging and plugging back in, time to think and wonder to myself. It’s been a nice respite from my standard reflect-and-pontificate repertoire.
We even snuck in a quick overnight camping trip. And I hardly posted about it! It was a glorious quiet recharge. Sunshine, fresh air, water and sand, stars and trees and goodness.
When we got home, things launched into hyper speed and I’ve made a point to keep some of the chill going. I ride my bike without music, I walk without a podcast. I even go sometimes *without my phone* (I know).
I checked out actual paper books from the library and read after lunch rather than scroll.
And what I’ve noticed in the quiet, when I’m quiet enough to hear it, is the unheard constant symphony of life. Birds chirping, sprinklers clicking on, car locks clicking, blunted thuds of the music of passing cars, the click of keyboards and the hum of the lights.
Sometimes I hear the leaves rustle, or a squirrel run across our roof (that was truly horrifying the first time it happened– I had NO IDEA what was happening and wondered if I was maybe losing my mind).
I hear offers of help, I hear pleas for help. I hear the rattle of phones vibrating on tables.
My phone tells me my screen time was down last week, and I am struck by the strangeness of that announcement and flex.
So, I recommend it. For whatever length of time it is. Ten minutes. A couple hours. Overnight.
Throw it on airplane or do not disturb and just… listen. And breathe.
It’s amazing what we can notice without notifications.
Much love. We are specks of dust on a speck of dust spinning and hurdling through space. It’s a lot– nothing and everything all at once.
xox
Pretty Good Ugly 