We had a quiet day at home today.
No errands to run, no trips into town.
I didn’t get everything done that I thought I would, but I spent a beautiful time pushing my youngest son on the swing as he talked to me and told me stories and ask me questions – his favorite thing to do when I push him on the swing; he becomes quite a chatterbox.
“Why do the leaves fall, Mama? Are the trees dying?” “How do plants drink, Mama?” “When I close my eyes I can remember things.” “Push me hard so I can fly like the birds!”
It’s moments like this that I miss most when we’re so busy that we don’t have time for spontaneous stillness. Stillness can only come in unplanned moments; you can’t schedule it in on a list of Things To Do.
This is the stillness of watching a child learn and grow.
This is the stillness of cementing the hearts in a family together.
This is the stillness that you often don’t realize is missing until it’s so far gone you don’t know quite how to recapture it.
This is the stillness of a wild and free childhood and why we chose to live where we live.
This is the reason why I’ll be fighting the battle to stay home more. I won’t be able to explain that we’re staying home so we can be still. Most people don’t understand that and our culture certainly doesn’t value it. But if I’ve learned anything this past season of busy and running (which has followed closely on the tail of many previous seasons of busy and running), it’s that I need stillness. I think we all do.
I don’t know yet how I’ll balance the interests of my Middles and the needs of family and friends with moments of quiet, but I’m going to fight hard for the quiet. Remind me please when you see me doing many things, will you?