“There are days when solitude is a heady wine that intoxicates you with freedom, others when it is a bitter tonic, and still others when it is a poison that makes you beat your head against the wall.”
Colette 1873 –1954, French author
I read this post on Quiet from Misty at Rainy Day in May and it set me thinking about all the noisy years I have had in my life and now the quiet years.
The years when the children were growing up, going to school, after school activities, having friends over, learning to drive, arguing with each other, arguing with mother or father – these were noisy years.
During these noisy years, I often wished for some quiet time alone and as with all mothers, these were fleeting. But mostly I loved being involved with the children and their activities.
Now the children have left home and started families of their own. My post on April 1 ‘waxed lyrical’ about them. And the house is quiet without them.
Very occasionally, it is filled with noise of growing boys laughing and arguing with each other and one or both of their parents. But when they leave, the house once again settles into silence.
And so now I am in the quiet years. The time now that I am on my own, without anybody else to worry about, and I choose what I do with my time. After all, my blog is titled “I choose how I will spend the rest of my life”. This is my simple time. A time when I can divest myself of all the extraneous junk, both physical and mental that I have been carrying around for ages.
So each day I can choose to
- Read a book
- Have coffee on my own or with a friend
- Take Lotte, the Tibetan Spaniel for a walk
- Make phone-calls
- Watch TV
- Write my blog
- Read blogs written by others
- Invite friends over for coffee or dinner
- Go to the movies
- Go to a concert
The solitude is at my choosing as is the silence. The sentiments come and go because I find as I get older, I do become more sentimental. And today is Saturday and the sun is shining.
And I found this poem from Wang Wei a Tang Dynasty Chinese poet, musician, painter, and statesman. who lived 699-759 AD
In these quiet years growing calmer,
Lacking knowledge of the world’s affairs,
I stop worrying how things will turn out.
My quiet mind makes no subtle plans.
Returning to the woods I love
A pine-tree breeze rustles in my robes.
Mountain moonlight fills the lute’s bowl,
Shows up what learning I have left.
If you ask what makes us rich or poor
Hear the Fisherman’s voice float to shore.
To read more of his poems go to http://www.poetryintranslation.com/PITBR/Chinese/AllwaterWangWei.htm.