I realised quite recently that the slow down that I thought was what I wanted isn't exactly what I want.need.
I realised that quietly is what I'm aiming for.wishing for.needing.
The slow living of the country life isn't as a real a thing as is imagined. Oh yes, in a certain way, for sure. There is a slowing - and not just the internet or the Sunday driver in front of you - a slowing of a lot of things.
But I'm finding my mind is moving at the wondering speed it always does. Jumping and flittering and mercurial. The way I am. The way I always am. always will be. That's my mind. My body has slowed, but my mind wants lots. And that's ok.
So - it's quietly I want.
Some days I find that I have three people talking at me all at once. Yes. Three people wanting to have conversations with me with, needing answers and responses and thoughts and ideas and opinions and .... I suppose all mother's know that. Some days all I want is no-one talking to me, no-one needing me, wanting me, calling me, asking me, demanding of me.
So. In order for me to find this quiet amongst the noise of life I decided that firstly I need to want it. To know I wanted it was the best direction in finding it and having it. If you're after quietly in your days, you need to realise that's what you want.
Say the word in your head.
Say it softly over your tongue.
Maybe, if no-one's listening speak it, whisper it.
Is that the word you want? Really?
Know it before you find it.
For me to find quietly throughout my whole day, I've found that I need to make it happen in small pockets of time. To actively seek quiet. And then to bring it into the other noiser aspects of my day. For me to be better equipped to have three people talking at me.to me, wanting and needing me I need to find quiet amongst that; within that. To know the quiet spots in my mind, my heart, my soul.
The first ever so tentative steps are to spend 10minutes being quiet. This, for me, doesn't mean meditation, as that's a different sort of quiet. For me, this means boiling the kettle and making a pot of tea. Real leaf tea in a tea pot. There's the quiet moments of rinsing the tea pot and waiting for the kettle to boil. Of finding which cup I will use today. And listening to the sound of the water as it heats in the kettle on the stove, the gas on the metal, the water moving in the metal kettle. And filling the kettle.
Sometimes my quietly might include some crochet or stitchwork, or putting fabric in jars for dyeing. Sometimes it might be sitting, with the sun across my shoulders and my tea cup in my hands.
Always just me being within and without whatever is around me. Actively hearing the sounds around me. And really tasting the tea as I drink it, feeling it, thinking about it. Not rushing.
No phone or computer or reading or music. Those aren't part of my quietly moments. You must actively make quietly happen to start, to find it.