Hey friends, good to be back with you. I took the Monday after Easter off to hang out with my kiddos and plan some birthday celebrations for the hubby. He's an April fool baby, but we left the pranks behind for some endearing homemade cards and cake. If you follow Pars Caeli on Instagram, you saw our Easter egg hunt prep. I'm happy to report that all of our nearly 100 eggs were found in the backyard, and we had a fun, child-friendly Easter with good friends.
Despite a ton of work and blog projects-in-waiting, I kept away from my computer for four days straight. I had to be intentional about it, resisting urges to finish this or check in on that. Much like the Christian example of Christ's empty tomb after the Resurrection, I needed some time not to be filled - with ideas, updates, posts, and content. Time to be still.
I live in Indiana. I was not born here, nor did I grow up here, but one aspect of this great state, like many in the Midwest and West, is that it overflows with emptiness. As a student here, I was often bored and disappointed by the flat, wide expanse of soybeans and corn farms. As a professional and occupied mom, I now find this openness a great relief from the buzz and clutter of the rest of my life. My eyes long for the stretches of natural sameness that provides peace to my soul.
I read this article posted over on 99U entitled, What Happened to Downtime? The Extinction of Deep Thinking & Sacred Space, and I resonated with both the needs and the very practical ideas for adding more emptiness to your life. When during your day or even your week are you, "completely isolated, and your mind is able to wander and churn big questions without interruption?"
My heart sunk just a little with this excerpt:
Our insatiable need to tune into information – at the expense of savoring our downtime – is a form of “work” (something I call “insecurity work”) that we do to reassure ourselves.
I am guilty of clicking on blog stats and comments to boost my temporal feelings of insecurity as a friend, as a mom, as a designer. Perhaps just sitting with the emptiness is what is really called for.
As a younger person, I excelled at silence, taking the time to lay on the grass and watch cloud formations, spending time in a silent retreat, practicing the mindset and exercise of yoga. Somewhere between marriage, children, and social media, the quiet has been lost, and I'm hoping to find it.
Karen over at Chookooloonks offered this thought that I want to pass along.
Pay attention to things that connect you with joy.
Go over and read what Karen's got to say, because girlfriend has got it together. And I think this idea of connecting to your joy and finding the empty are intergrally intertwined.
So here's what I'd like to hear from you, lovelies, do you need quiet in your life to create, to move forward? If so, how do you find it or return to it?