Today’s prompt is another quote. (See above.)
For the second Saturday in a row, we spent the day at #3’s volleyball tournament. We left the house early in the morning, before daylight, only to return home after dark. Most of the day was spent in a gymnasium under fluorescent lights. I can still hear the discordant sound of referrees’ whistles, parents cheering, coaches yelling, and high pitched screams of delight and encouragement from young girls ringing in my ears.
I love watching my daughter play a sport she loves but I find myself talking and interacting with other parents and the rest of my family all day long. There isn’t a moment of silence or stillness. This is to be expected. By the end of the day, we are all exhausted from the full day of stimulation and activity. Tonight, we didn’t go to a birthday party after the tournament because the kids just wanted to go home and have quiet time together.
In the past year I have been able to temper these hectic and chaotic moments by having a morning ritual of alone time. Whether it’s a few hours or a few minutes, waking up before the children and having time to reflect and to be still has helped me remain more patient and to set intentions for the day ahead.
We typically celebrate “the holidays” as special occasions, especially at this time of year. We tend to be at our most busiest and we miss out on this opportunity to slow down. If the entire year could be looked at as a day, then this time of year, the month of December, would be my morning alone time. The time of day when I listen to my heart in silence. The time of gratitude, reflection, and intention.
Although each day throughout the year isn’t considered a holiday, each day can hold a “holy-moment” – a morning or evening sacred space in solitude where I can regroup and reconnect, where I can come back together, where I can see myself as whole again and again.
It is a place and time where I can sit and do nothing except hear my heart at its most audible and in its most earnest condition.
Can you incorporate a ritual of silence, solitude, and stillness, even for a few minutes, during the holidays?