Q is for Quiet

Q is for quiet.

It’s been an eternity since I’ve sat down to write. I’ve had lots of excuses: the start of the school year, planning our trip to Disney, the beautiful weather. The list goes on. There will always be noise getting in the way. It’s said that a serious writer needs to make writing part of a daily routine. I like routine, but I also like flexibility. So if a friend asks me to join her for a walk that morning, I’m going to say yes instead of sitting down to write while it’s quiet. The noise of life can be so inviting.

This September my original plan was to write everyone morning once the kids got on the bus. I haven’t been very successful. There is so much other stuff I wanted or needed to do and once my day got underway I never made it back to the computer. My new plan is to write after lunch. Writing after lunch should be perfect and the house will be quiet. I’ve learned that I can’t write when it’s noisy.

I’ve had this “Q” post on my mind for several weeks. Quest, Questions, Quickly, Quirky were all in the running. It was at my sister in law’s house that “Quiet” bubbled up to the top of the list. She and the new baby were napping, our husbands were outside and the kids were playing so I laid down on the couch for a nap too. Naturally, the kids found me. They were running around with their “finger guns” shooting at bad guys. “Bang, bang, bang – I shot him – bang, bang!” They were getting closer to me. I kept my eyes closed. “Bang, bang!” They are shooting at me now. Don’t I already look dead to them? “Bang – I runned out of bullets,” says my nephew. They took their noise to some other location and I drifted off to sleep in the renewed quiet.

Quietness is an enigma to me. I love the peace it brings, yet as a mother I cherish the noisiness of family. I envision myself on a seesaw between quiet and noise. As soon as I lean towards one side, I feel pulled towards the other. Being a mom means not always being in control of which side of the seesaw you’re on. Right now it’s quiet so I’m writing. Tomorrow may be too noisy … even after lunch.