At Home, Elsewhere

learning how to be at home

For Anyone Who Is Quiet

Today, they sun woke up slowly and so did I. The sky was bubbles of grey, weighing heavily, raining steadily and surely. A fatigue came over me, and if I am honest, it also dampened my mood. Days like this, I tend to notice the negative things. I notice all that I have not done, and all that I lack. My heart wants to sink into depression and stay there. In the past, I used to try and fight back. I would try to shock my body into feeling better, being happy… but the sadness fights back as well. I would go on like this for the day until the sadness starts to dominate me and I would finally surrender. Plummeting into an emotional mess, confused about what is wrong, searching for answers. Even talking about that makes me tired, I don’t do that anymore. This time, I sit and listen to my heart complaining. Even though I know that my life is wonderful, I know that it is human nature to want more. The complaints are equally as valid and worth listening to as the gratitude. This is where we find our direction, how we want to move forward in life, in this brief moment that we call twenty four hours.

I spent the first hour not doing much, and decided that today was going to be a day of rest without guilt. I made a cup of tea and then sat and listened to my worries and self criticism. All the things that could have been, all that I have missed, all that I am late on in my life. I accept that I could have made decisions very differently, that I would probably be in a different place if I had – maybe better, maybe worse. And when I accept where I am in this moment, without needing to convince myself that I have done things right or berate myself for having done everything wrong, the feeling disappears. Into thin air. As if I had never felt sad a moment ago. Then I begin again, to live the life that I have chosen. I do simple things: make good food, drink something hot, listen to soothing music, and soon I am in a state of bliss again. Thankful for my life, that I have a place to sleep, to shelter from the rain, good food to eat even if I may not cook very well. Above all, I’m thankful that I always have my writing to turn to. No matter what, I know that I can always write and that everything will be better soon.

Writing helps me to move through my changes in mood, which often happens for reasons we can never elucidate. That’s why I don’t try to search for reasons for my emotions anymore. They are a mysterious force all on their own, and I know better than to draw logic out of them. I remain quiet. In the past, when I remained quiet, people assumed that I was stupid. I tend to think the same when I am alone, although I know it’s not true. I am not sure why, but the world seems to love loud people. Loud people who make themselves known, are ambitious, driven and want to make a difference in the world. I thought that this was the way I should live and at one period, I tried to force myself to be like this. But honestly, I’m not. I am quiet because I prefer to listen than to go through the stress of thinking of something to say, saying it and then realising that I have said something clumsy despite my best efforts to the contrary. I would rather smile at someone, nod, wave, look deeply into someone’s eyes, stare into space. Now that’s something I can do for a long time.

People have told me in the past that there is something wrong with me. That I am slow, because I do not respond straight away. That I am weak because I do not talk loudly. I was even told once that I must change my personality in order to be of any success in my career, I must stop being so meek and mild. I remember who told me this, an old manager where I used to work, and I nodded in agreement with him. I think back on this moment, and now I can only apologise to myself. I am sorry that I had abandoned my true self in exchange for approval from someone else. I am sorry that I pretended financial success was that important to me that I would change my inner nature just to make a living. These days, I have come back to my quiet self. I love to share silence with people, silence is indeed golden. Sometimes I go so far as to purposely say less, because I don’t want to invest in any relationships anymore that require me to be anyone but who I truly am. I don’t have the energy for that. I am quiet, and if people think that I have nothing to offer because of it, then that is their loss. It has not been easy to get to this point, but I am proud that I am finally here.

I needed to find a different way to approve of myself, because when you are quiet you tend to become invisible. This means that you naturally don’t get much approval from others, and if you do then it is probably never known to you. Instead of trying to talk, I am practicing simply just letting myself write. Sharing with myself, and then taking these words and sharing them with others. The bare, honest truth. Whether it is dull or interesting. And today, I think that it happens to be a little dull, like the weather. But this is authenticity. A cold day, spent mainly inside, watching the rain from the balcony and watching the steam from my hot cup of tea rise into nothing. Watching with my inner eyes, my emotions vaporise into nothing as well. The cold weather is a good opportunity to observe and sit with feelings of discomfort, to be okay with the warm fuzzy moments as well as the cold, abrasive ones. We need not always fight for happiness, but I think that it is always worth falling into the present moment and accepting it as it is. Quietly, softly, slowly.

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