My one regret with my 13 year relationship with my Love is that I never wanted to fully live within the quiet periods. I have had my fair share of quietness during the last 13 years. Two years into my relationship with my Love we started living together. About that same time he accepted an internship to study at Stanford University for the Summer. I planted flower pots, smoked on the back deck, tried working out and read alot of books. It was quiet. Ultimately, I was anxious to move forward.
A couple years later, (now married) my Love graduated with his BA and we moved up to Seattle so that he could start and finish his Masters degree. Again my Love accepted an internship in Washington D.C. for the Summer. I worked out (running became my passion), sat on the beach, watched the Alki summer sunsets every night, read alot of books, and went to the office early in the mornings (commuted all the way down to T-town). It was quiet. Subsequently, I was lonely.
Shortly after graduation we moved back to Tacoma and my Love took at job with an international adoption agency. All of the sudden he was taken away from me again, traveling with families, uniting with their children. These trips were shorter (14 - 16 days) but pretty frequent. I stayed at the office late, worked out and obsessed over having a baby. Many of my evenings were quiet. I imagined myself as a mother.
A year later we bought a house (still childless) and filled it with stuff. I now had a fancy dinning room table. During my Love's frequent trips I would sit down to eat at this dinning room table and would imagine how amazing and enjoyable it would be to have a full table (complete with a husband and kids). A couple months later, the night before one of my Love's trips, I discovered I was pregnant. The next day it was quiet again. During thenext few months I read alot of books and learned alot about my body. Four months into my pregnancy I was laid off from my job. My Love was traveling at the time. I listened to alot of loud music, but it was still quiet. Appropriately, I was depressed.
At six months of age my son and I found ourselves alone again in the evenings. It was less quiet, but sometimes even more quiet. I had every Wednesday off from the office (new job) and I was perplexed as to what to do with myself during his epic 3 hour naps. At the end of my Love's travels he came home and told me that he intended to start his own non-profit, bringing clean water to children all over the world. It required more time away. By December his dream had come true.
One year later we decided to have another baby. It took 12 months of trying (I am convinced this was because of the hectic ill-timed travels). At the same time my now two year old decided that it was fun to wake up at 4:00am every day and scream until we relented and went to him. During my Love's travels my space became less and less quiet.
Flash forward two years...My Love is out of town. I am desperately trying to get dinner on my (not so fancy anymore) dinner table. My baby is screaming because she has dropped her pacifier and, being strapped to my back, she cannot get down to get it. My four year old is talking incessantly to me about superheros, obviously unaware that there is a crazy screaming wild child in our midst. My pasta has just boiled over and in the back of my brains somewhere I remember that I am out of baby formula and diapers (trip to grocery store after dinner?), my telephone is ringing and my four year old has now moved on and decides that he does not like pasta and is throwing a fit. To top it off my Love decides that this would be a very good time to skype us for a fun, friendly, family chat (I sometimes add another "F" word to this). My life is nowhere near quiet. At this very moment I want to shoot myself for wishing for a full dinning room table. At this very moment all I want is one milli-second of quiet. I yearn for flower pots, a smoke on the back deck, a sunset, a workout, a book (anything fiction), a late evening at the office, an epic 3 hour nap...It took me almost two more years to finally realize that it was too loud. Quiet, please.
I went on a search for the quietness that had all too often permeated my life. I wanted it back. I needed it back. I meditated upon those quiet periods and wished with every part of me that I had taken advantage of that time in space. Instead I had tried to rush through the quietness or I had tried to distract myself from it. I never fully realized the gravity of my quietness and for this I am sorry.
My search has finally led me to some quiet waters (although noise is all around). I am so very thankful and am determined not to rush or distract myself through this time. My soul is content to be quiet.
Beautiful.
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