I know all you introverts are going to understand me when I say this: I want a quiet life.
“A, what is a quiet life?” you may ask. Oh don’t worry, I’m going to have a nice big aesthetic mood novella (it’s a thing now) below. If you don’t want to know or be inspired by my quiet dreams (why are you here?) I won’t be sad if you skip this post.
This is for all the quiet ones out there.
A Quiet Life
I have a lot of thoughts about this thing called a “quiet life.” As I’m sitting at my desk at work, dreading my one and only appointment for the day, I’m relishing in the silence. The phone hasn’t rang, no one has come to talk to me, I get to be lulled to near-sleep by the constant humming of the copier beside me.
Sometimes, you have to find your peace wherever you can.
My job, ironically, deals with people. A lot of people. And my goodness did I realize that once lockdown was lifted and every single person in the state (and their family, and their friends, and their pets) came into my office. It was 6 weeks of hell. Back-to-back appointments and random people coming in off the street. They need this and that and something else and it’s my job to get it all for them.
It got so bad I honestly thought I would quit. I couldn’t take the onslaught of people day after day after day…after day. My weekends consisted of me coming home and getting straight into my pajamas and getting in bed. I didn’t want to talk to anyone about anything. I couldn’t even bear to answer “how was work today?” I thought I was going to die. My head was going to explode. These people were going to tear me apart.
Thankfully, things have gotten better. I fought my way through it and finally come out the other side, and I feel so blessed to be in a quiet office all alone. I would be perfectly content if I never saw another client again. And in this lull, as I regain my small vial of composure and try to find a way to plug the holes in my dripping energy levels, I remember what a quiet life is.
A quiet life is a quiet mind
A quiet life is a quiet mind. It’s having a To-Talk-To list with only a handful of names. It’s taking a deep breath and feeling the cold conditioned air in your lungs and heaving that big sigh of relief. Simply, it’s not having twenty thoughts screaming in your head at once.
I know I’m not cut out for a people job. However, having these few moments, sometimes hours, of complete silence assists me so much in keeping my mind from staying in overdrive that it almost makes my work day worth it.
A quiet life is quiet
A quiet life is quiet. I’m not a teenager anymore. I don’t like loud noises much less loud music. Sometimes I leave on some kind of dinner jazz for background noise, but I turn that down low. I’m careful not to make much noise because I don’t like it. I get irritated when trucks with mufflers speed by, revving those big loud engines in the middle of the night. Sometimes accompanied by chaotic music, hammering bass, the brightest headlights you’ve ever seen. No thank you.
A quiet life is simple
A quiet life is simple. I’m tired of scrolling social media. I don’t want to read everyone’s FB post. I don’t want notification after notification from Instagram on my phone. I can only focus on so many things, and finding the things that don’t matter, the ones I can get rid of, simplifies my life. Simplicity is something I strive for in everything I do. Simple meals, simple outfits, simple jewelry, simple blog, simple art. I can’t stand clutter anymore. I think it may have gotten to the point where I can’t handle having stuff anymore. All my makeup makes me exhausted just looking at it. So many decisions. I know I have too much jewelry, but I also can’t stand to part with any of it. What if I want to wear it? What if I’ll need it? Currently, my simple solution is to keep it rather than make that decision, but one day I’ll get my things sorted. One day everything will have a place. One day it will all be simple.
A quiet life is slow
A quiet life is slow. Living in a fast-paced society that glamorizes being “busy,” having to “hustle” and constant, intense productivity exhausts me. “Work hard,” they say, but for what? Money? Is that all? Now I know money is important but what else are we working so darn hard for? An idealized way of life? Having the most stuff? Doing the most things? Sacrificing our literal lives so we can exist? I know it’s different for everyone, and I know money is a horrible subject to discuss and I know not everyone is as privileged as me to have a decent paying job and few responsibilities. I made my life that way, but I won’t say it’s the best way. But this slowness, the desire for something more than waking up another day to spend it in a place I don’t want to be just so I can have a fancy new watch or save money to get my future kids in the best private school and give them the most expensive clothes and have the most expensive house, is my life-blood.
Slow down a moment. Look at the clouds. They’re made of water you know. The world will continue going with or without those fancy shoes. It will rain whether you have to run to cover the open sunroof of your expensive new car or not. Why are we running so hard, so fast, to a goal that will continue moving further and further way, without you or not? Without that goal, what is there to rush for? What do you need to work overtime for? Miss birthday parties for? Weddings? Funerals? What is so much more important that you can’t take the time to think about what to get your best friend for their birthday instead of making more money?
A quiet life is something worth working for
A quiet life is something worth working for. And I don’t mean getting a second job kind of work. I mean the mental work, the emotional work, taking the time to look around and see what’s making too much noise. Working towards what’s important to you. Not society, not your friends, not your family.
A quiet life is you.