29 Days of Quiet {day one}
I used to dread this time of year: the dark days of mid-winter descending like a heavy fog after the crescendo of the holidays.
But this year is different.
I think it started in December, when we first learned about my father-in-law’s cancer. Just two weeks before Christmas, and suddenly all I wanted to do was curl up under the down comforter. Most of our typical holiday activities screeched to a halt. Instead, we concentrated on the regular routine – just getting through every day was enough.
While Brad was in Minnesota visiting doctors with his dad, I’d put the kids to bed, turn out all the lamps except the tiny white lights on the mantel and the ones wrapped around the bannister and the tree. Then I'd light a vanilla votive in the glass hurricane and lie back on the couch, fleece socks on my feet, comforter pulled up to my chin.
I didn't watch TV. I didn't read or blog or tweet. I simply lay with my head on the striped pillow and was quiet.
"It sounds kind of depressing," Brad said, when he called from Minneapolis and I told him about my nightly ritual.
But it wasn't. It was comforting.
I can’t even tell you what I thought about, or what I prayed, or even if I thought or prayed at all. All I know is that those nights under the comforter, the candle flickering shadows across the coffee table, the house creaking into the silence, those nights were solace for me.
That's when I first thought, why not embrace the quiet for a while?
And so, as we stand at the doorway of February, a leap year February, I invite you not to leap but to step gently into a month of quiet with me. Together let’s embrace this hushed, mid-winter pause. I’m not sure at all where this might lead us, or what this series will look like, or even if I will be able to maintain it uninterrupted for the full 29 days, but I invite you to walk into 29 Days of Quiet with me.
Will you come along?
{a note: I will *try* to post all 29 days of February, but Mondays will still be reserved for the "Hear It on Sunday, Use It on Monday" community link-up. So please don't hesitate to come on by and link up for that, as noisily as you wish!}
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I know I certainly hear God better in the quiet. Looking forward to reading your words about this. Interesting enough I registered yesterday for four day silent retreat in early March. Now that is a lot of quiet!
Lovely thought, Michelle. We so often forget how healing the quiet can be. Peace, my friend. :)
I know that feeling. Sending you peace.
I've learned how hard it is for me to be still and embrace quiet. I almost always want to turn on music or do something. Being still and knowing--hard work sometimes, but beautiful when I am able to embrace it.
I have started driving ( and I drive a lot) without the radio on. Just quiet. I'm amazed by the thoughts and conversations with God I have when it is quiet.
I've learned to love silence.
When I'm home, alone, I almost always leave the house quiet.
When I drive alone, I rarely have the radio on.
When I walk, run, or hike, I don't carry earphones or i-pod.
When I'm in a hotel, alone, on business travel, I embrace the solitude. After a long day of meetings, I may even turn down dinner with business associates, just to carry a small meal back to my room and enjoy the quiet.
I'm really not alone all that much, but when I am, I usually embrace the silence, enjoying my own thoughts and the comfort of time alone with My Father.
Whenever I'm alone, embracing the quiet is one of my favorite things to do. There is no one needing me. No one to entertain. No deadlines to meet. Just me and my solitude. It is a liberating feeling, and one I cherish. I've always found the colder months to be well-suited for silence and quiet, and I can think of no better way to spend February.
I've loved quiet for a long, long time. But I only just realized it. And started pursuing it intentionally. (Some might watch and say ruthlessly. I tell them to just be quiet. ;-)
If you can let me get a little heady for a minute, I'll say this: push it as far as you dare. I've compared it to breaking in Levis. You have to let them chafe a little on their way to getting so soft you never want to wear anything else. So go up to that edge where it starts to feel awkward and uncomfortable, and just go a tiny bit farther each time. The comfortable space will grow. And, I'm finding, it makes the over-stimulated noisy life that is mine more manageable for me. I'm (quietly) excited for what this purposeful focus will yield for you.
(You and Deidra -- small, now quiet -- I have to love you two a little more every day.)
29 days of quiet sounds just right for me this year.
I look forward to travelling along with you.
What a lovely idea.
Yes, I shall join you . . .
Sounds lovely. Looking forward to it.
You're always challenging me, Michelle. Thanks. :-) I'm still stuck on your last year's fast from multitasking. And so I think it will be my choice for the Lenten season this year.
And now get quiet too? It does sound appealing, I admit...
Yesterday while our baby napped, I slipped outside to write (it was beautiful, in the 60's here). And there was something so peaceful and calm about it. And I was convicted ... I have to create these moments of quiet and still. I didn't realize until yesterday how much I needed it. Looking forward to your series ...
Yeah but if you recall, I totally bombed on the Multi-task Fast! Maybe Quiet is more my thing? We'll see... :)
It's been in the high 60s here, too! I sat outside on the front step for a long time with Noah yesterday -- I'll be writing about that for sure as part of this series!
Happy to have you along for the journey.
Yay, come along with me, Deborah!
Love, love the Levis metaphor, Lyla.
And I admit, I first started thinking about the quiet around the same time Deidra was writing on the small. She got me thinking. I was afraid to do a whole 29 days straight, but in the end, I figured, what the heck? I don't have a whole lot else going on right now...except, you know, the waiting and the grief.
Thanks for the advice...I love how quietly profound you are, girl.
I already drive without the radio on, which is ironic, since I work for a radio station (Nebraska NPR). Sometimes my boss will ask me a question about our programming, and I have to admit that I don't listen to it very often. That gets kind of embarrassing!
Receiving the peace from you in gratitude, Beverley. Thank you.
Sometimes it is very calming to have quiet, and a hot cup of tea and perhaps a warm blanket. Your spirit needs it right now.
Sounds wonderful, Michelle.....I could just see myself where you were sitting, in the quiet. Lori
Michelle! I'm so excited!! We just started a Bible study on Simplicity and this dove-tails perfectly!! I'm totally directing my ladies to your blog. Thank you!!
What a peaceful path for this month. I love quiet, but life often can seem so loud. I look forward to visiting here for the respite. Typically, I think of snow muffling the noise this time of year, but not with these spring temps.! Thank you for filling in by falling gently and offering it with your words and example here. I'll definitely come along.
Two of my favorite people - you and Lyla. Talking about Levis. What's not to love?
You know I'm smiling, right? Sitting over here on my own couch, just smiling at you. You are beautiful!
YOU inspired me with your 25 Days to a Smaller Christmas series - I've been thinking about this ever since.
*a little scared at the thought of writing 29 posts in a row though!
I know what you mean -- it's been in the upper 60s here this week. I had to use a photo from MN for the series{not really complaining though!}
Thanks for spreading the word, Sara!
Truth be told, I'm still doing a lot of sitting in the quiet in the evenings. It helps me unwind from the single parenting -- wow, I have a whole new respect for that!!
I love a hot cup of tea -- I have one nearly every afternoon [at least the afternoons that I'm home and not a work...although sometimes I have a cup at work, too, if I need a pick-me-up].
You've got the right idea, Joe. I've hardly turned the TV on this whole time my husband has been gone (although I admit, I'm still on the computer a lot).
That's what I think, too, Dayle -- I have a whole new appreciation for these dark days of winter. It's a nice excuse to snuggle in and downshift.
The more silence I build into my life, the better my life feels. (Within reason, of course :>) I walk and listen and then I sit and listen almost every day and I try to squeeze in a couple of trips to the beach each week. And I began to give up listening to music about 4 or 5 years ago, as the car became a sanctuary for me, especially when I was working. That was the biggest surprise to me as music has always been such a huge part of my own spiritual journey. I wait expectantly to hear about this experience, Michelle. This is a great idea.
I am all in Michelle. I am so excited by you have started here. And I looking forward to the quiet along this journey.
Now I know. I'll be back all this month. February is hard for me because I remember each painful day of my mom's last month (she died March 3). So a little quiet reflection might just be in order.
I can't tell you how thankful I am for this Michelle - a sweet, quiet answer to prayer. Quiet isn't my word for this year, but it has settled in my heart like a deep longing.
I'm with you - quietly sitting with you.