Silence

I'm reading a fascinating story right now called, "The Stranger in the Woods" by Michael Finkel.  It's the true story of a 20-year-old man who walks into the woods one day and disengages totally from society.  He lives without touching or speaking with another human being for 27 years (1986-2013) before he is discovered!  As an extrovert and a great believer in the importance of relationships, the idea of going without human contact for days, let alone years is disconcerting to me.

However, as the author explores the origins of hermits and the profound affect of solitary exploration on our psyche, it has surprised me how appetizing the word 'silence' sounds on my tongue.  As a young mother in the trenches, I'm almost salivating just imagining it.  What would it be like to wake up to your body's natural clock in the placid morning light to the methodic tick tock of your clock?  How would I spend my time if there were no demands of society upon it?  I can think of dozens of things I would like to check off my list each day and the dreams I could pursue if unhindered by diaper changes, meal preparation, mortgage payments and church callings.

But when I begin to imagine my world devoid of those responsibilities, almost instantaneously feelings of loneliness wash over me and make me long for my hypothetically removed loved ones!  To the point where I am compelled to lay down my book and look across the porch in the summer twilight to watch this sweet moment: Burke with our eldest daughter Daphne snuggled up against his chest (7 years and nearly too big for her Daddy's lap), reading out loud from The Book of Mormon all by herself, blasting through words like "posterity" and "commandments" with her bookish brightness as she sails towards her goal of reading the entire Book of Mormon before her 8th birthday and subsequent baptism into The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints next year.  Her cheeks are still soft and round with just a hint of cherubic babyishness lingering, slowly being eclipsed by emerging girlhood.  It pains my heart to think of missing even a single day of this childhood innocence in pursuit of soundless rest and expanded brain capacity.


We are in such a beautiful phase this summer.  The children are sleeping well, the vast majority of the day filled with happiness and all I want is to bottle up this moment in time, keep it close to my heart always.  This peace has been hard fought for over the past two years and I reveal in each precious day that I get to hang onto this little slice of paradise.




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