At Home in the Quiet

As a writer, I’m always paying attention to my surroundings. The books I read and places I go reward my inner world with a myriad of thought-provoking topics. I also keep a journal of quotes from authors who speak to my greatest need of the moment.

Wendell Berry is one of my favorite authors. I’ve read many of his books of prose and poetry. One of his most popular books is Hannah Coulter, a simple, yet profound, story of the life of a woman in rural Kentucky. I first listened to this book on Hoopla and loved it so much I ordered the paperback version. I want to share one of the quotes that gives insight to my writing life.

The quote comes on page 87. I’m including a good portion of the paragraph for context:

 

“…That is where I go to rest before I begin my slow climb back home again. I sit and let the quiet come to me. It doesn’t come right away. I have to quiet myself before I can hear the quiet of the place, and a car passing along the road up on the hillside or an airplane flying over makes it harder. But I listen and wait, and at last, it comes. It is an old quiet, only deepened by the sound of the creek, a bird singing, or a barking squirrel.”

 

This passage stirs something deep inside me. I love the quiet times when I sit before the Lord attentive to His voice. There is no way on earth to hear Him in the busy world we live in unless we get quiet, and I’m very much at home in the quiet, but sometimes I must seek it.  And just as Hannah says, “It (the quiet) doesn’t come right away…but at last, it comes.”

Do you run on empty, or fumes at best? If you’re like me, the noise of social media is overwhelming and at times suffocating. As the political season ramps up again, my phone notifications have increased many times over. As a dear friend says, “It’s too much!” Our world is too loud. I run to passages such as the one above to quiet my soul.

Being an introvert, the posture of sitting quietly is enough for me. It awakens my senses to all of creation around me. It slows my pulse to the beat of birdsong and squirrels rustling through leaves. It allows my mind to ponder the thoughts that swirl through my brain, and yet, it slows those very same thoughts and creates wonder and recognition of beauty. 

Sitting outside as a gentle, springtime breeze wafts across my face, sunlight peeking through branches, I'm reminded that light cannot be stopped. It has the power to slip through and cut the darkness like a knife. And one day, the Light of the world will descend on a cloud and pierce the darkness with His presence. I'd miss all this without the stillness.

The ebb and flow and rhythm of life speaks through a megaphone in the quiet corners of my soul and leaves me filled to overflowing with God’s goodness.

Only then am I able to give and serve in the way God created me. If you’re struggling with too much noise, find a quiet place where the sound of a rippling stream transports you to that place of rest and peace that only God can give. He will fill you and strengthen you to live out your calling in a world that needs to hear your voice. 

Quietly, of course.

 

 

Living Loud Inside My Head

Have you met the kind of person who exuded confidence and a bubbly personality? This same person could charm the neighbor's kid, the neighbor's dog, and the fence you had a chat over? I grew up surrounded by those kind of people.

I'm not one of them.

I'm quiet and reserved, until I discover something we have in common. My outward demeanor may come across as calm but most of the time the voices in my head are noisy. For many years I became accustomed to listening to the clanging sounds telling me I would never measure up to the person sitting next to me, but I've become better at remembering my worth in Christ.

I'm an observer of people by nature. Unless I know you well I won't approach you for fear of rejection, or because it's too awkward.

If you had a front row seat in the audience of my sub-conscience you'd hear creative projects brewing, conversations with friends over coffee, advice given and received, writing ideas bouncing around, decorating ideas, Bible study thoughts, and the conversation that never ends...the direction of my book, what to include, how much do people really want to know, and will they really care.

While sitting in Starbucks, the people huddled in groups of two or three catch my attention. I ponder what issues they find themselves. My eyes drift to the barista. Even with her hair pulled back in a ponytail, her simple beauty is unmistakable. Is she working her way through school? Maybe she's a single mother struggling to make ends meet, working during the day while writing her first novel late into the night. Did her husband leave, or did he die at a young age? Is there a little one to raise alone with no money, and no education, but she has a dream of becoming a writer?

And then there's the fifty something man who is there every time I stop by to write. Did he make millions and now he's retired and simply wasting time? Or did he lose his job and he's using the free wi-fi as I did awhile back?

If you haven't guessed by now, I'm an introvert, a writer, and I live on the fringes. I live loudly in my head, but very quietly in public. It's difficult for me to be assertive, but in my head, I have conversations going constantly. You won't find me on the dance floor at weddings, though I love to dance. In my head, I'm line dancing right along with you.

I love one on one time time with friends, and especially entertaining in my home. I get lost at parties and usually find one person to connect with. Writing conferences are filled with introverts who understand one another. Sessions are structured to your particular need and therefore, not intimidating.

Because introverts are quiet, we get looked over, pushed aside, ignored, and taken advantage of. The movie, Dirty Dancing, which caused quite a stir in the 80's, made this line famous, "Nobody puts Baby in a corner." Baby was the picture of an introvert coming of age in the hit movie set in the Catskill Mountains in the 1960's.

I've had to learn to speak up for myself, and while I'm not sneaking out learning dance moves like Baby, I can resonate with her character. I've only begun to understand introversion in my fifties. When I was a teenager, I thought there was something wrong with me. Now I understand, I was the one holding back, it wasn't anyone's fault that I felt left out. I've learned to use my creativity to transfer the voices in my head to the written word. But first, I had to find my voice, and learn how to say what I think. It's made all the difference.

If you see me staring out the window while sitting in Starbucks, please come talk to me. There's a story going on loud in my head. I'd love to share it with you.



Coming soon: Reflections on Connecticut Mission Trip