The Quiet

The summer is still here, technically.

But Labor Day has come and gone; with a perfect 68 degree day I brought up my wheat wreath for the door and some little fall decorations to place around the house. It's my way of giving autumn permission to enter my home.

The past winter was so difficult that I told myself no matter how hot and tired I was by the end of the summer, I needed to soak in every last bit. I convinced myself that if I concentrated on each day and enjoyed it to the dregs I would be able to "bank" summer and draw upon it in March, when I needed it most. By July I worried that fall would come and I would be devastated. I so enjoy the sun.

But I'm not devastated.
Granted, I'm not psyched either.
I'm yielding.
You know the way a person dips one toe in the pool first, then a leg, then both legs before immersing? Yielding.

On an emotional level, I bottomed out early this summer. I'm unsure how this occurred, but somewhere between the twelfth time I said "yes" to something that I should've said "no" to, I went numb. I auto-piloted my days until I realized that my daughter Morgan started to say things like, "I'll do this so Eve doesn't wear you out so much, Mom."

Summer became healing for me. Allowed me to get off the grid, off the regimen of the school year. Refocused my priorities.

During this time of withdrawing, I realized that I very, very much miss designing. I don't miss corporate life or putting things in my portfolio... I miss the act of taking a blank canvas or screen or piece of paper and making something out of nothing. So I began to design again.

I didn't let things hold me back. I skipped naps at times. If I ran out of pencils, I used crayons. I needed to get on paper what was skipping around in my mind.

During this unplanned sabbatical, something spiritual has happened.
I'm quiet.
Right here (pointing to heart)... right here is where I am quiet.

I'm learning to say "no" to things that disrupt the quiet, that take me off course. I'm learning to listen closer to the quiet nudgings God gives me...

I'm pretty sure I'm annoying some people who would like a helping hand.

I'm letting go of what people expect of me. It's hard for this people pleaser, but I'm trying.

I'm in love with the quiet.
The still small voice.
God's muse is speaking.