The monotony and solitude of a quiet life stimulates the creative mind."
The house is very quiet today. It's an odd sort of quiet. It's peaceful yet surprisingly uncomfortable.
Oddly the motion of household sounds has stopped. A bird song flutters by from one end of the house; country music classics from the other. Neither are too loud; both just barely audible. I can almost touch the quiescence.
My sweetie started a new job today. He left the house in a handsome blue suit, carrying a brief case and an air of confidence. When the door closed behind him, it felt a little reminiscent of the first day of a new school year. My kids would kiss me goodbye (hmmm, maybe it was more tolerated me kissing them) then walked to the bus stop on their own, leaving me in the doorway wondering what to do with myself.
Here's the disconcerting thing. My kids are long grown. And when Jack was working from his home office, it's not like he made a lot of noise. So why is it that the house feels so quiet today?Could it be that his presence, even behind a closed door, was enough to keep me company? Maybe I am feeling lonely?
Well, I'm just going to have to get over that! Cause quiet is a good thing. Peaceful is a really good thing. Think of the things I should be able to accomplish with nothing to distract me but my own prattlings. Think of the chores I can get done. Think of the projects I can finish. Think of the closets I can clean and the laundry I can fold.
The trouble with quiet when one isn't used to it is that it can be soporific instead of energizing. The bird song resembles a lullaby. Dolly Parton's chorus is just repetitive enough to induce sleep. Unlike Einstein, I think the quiet has stilled my creative mind.
I think I need a nap!