Monday, December 23, 2013
I'm a quiet person. At a party, at work, and even in a small group you can usually pick me out easily--I'm the one who isn't talking. Maybe that's part of why I feel so jangled right now. So many things are going on with my day job, my author self; there are so many Christmas gatherings, trips back and forth into busy, noisy shopping and eating venues. I'm out of my element.
I also feel pulled apart by the merriment of the season as it intersects with both my occasional widow moments and happiness to be with people I care about.
Please understand that I'm thankful for each person, each invitation, each opportunity to be here and do that.
But because of my introversion and things weighing on my mind this season, I may not seem "merry and bright." I've talked with a lot of people who are having difficulty with this ho-ho-ho season. For the most part we keep smiling, inviting, taking food here and there, eating more than we need to eat, because it's the holidays and it's expected.
Give me a couple feet of snow outside, some quiet music, a cup of tea and a book to read (or write), and I'm a very happy girl. I was surprised to realize I have some free time for exactly that kind of evening tonight (minus the snow), the night before Christmas Eve. I think it will help get me centered again, and make "merry and bright" more likely.
I found this in a search for "silence" on quotesgarden.com:
"Not merely an absence of noise, Real Silence begins when a reasonable being withdraws from the noise in order to find peace and order in his inner sanctuary. " ~Peter Minard
That's me this evening. With a cat sleeping on my leg, a dog curled in the corner guarding the door, and Vince Guaraldi's "A Charlie Brown Christmas" playing softly. I feel better already.