Carry a piece of the quiet
Concentrate on silence.
When it comes, dwell on what
it sounds like.
Then strive to carry
that quiet with you
wherever you go.
From The Little Book of Calm by Paul Wilson
I cover an awful lot of miles during my working week, enduring crowded trains, exposed station platforms with the wind whistling around my ears, juggling luggage, laptop and handbag (and not always succeeding) and often regretting that vanity rather than practicality won the day when choosing my footwear. Early mornings and long days combined with the travelling can be tiring. On a rare occasion whilst wearing a skirt, I turned up to an office wearing a different style of shoe on each foot. It was really obvious to everyone except me but in my favour, they were at least the same colour. I learnt my lesson however and now I always turn on the light when fetching shoes from the wardrobe and always check that they are a pair whether they are high heels, boots or flatties.
With all this going on, I find it very difficult to cope with busy shops at lunchtimes, crowded trains at any time and noisy, polluted journeys. All I crave is a little peace and quiet. Oh to be left alone with my ipod, latest read and my own thoughts rather than have to listen in graphic detail about overflowing toilets, wild wife-swapping parties and pub football politics. And this is all before the Festive season really starts going…..tips on how to cope with depression at Christmas will come later!
So where would I rather be? Somewhere warm, peaceful and sparsely populated. Somewhere cold, peaceful and sparsely populated. Somewhere with no trains, no mobile phones and no grey-suited executives. Somewhere where Blackberry’s and X-Boxes get no reception and the mere mention of William & Catherine is banned. Even the dogs bark silently (unlike Kevin across the road). Which reminds me. We need to talk about Kevin.
I want to be somewhere where the only sounds that you can hear are the lapping of the waves on the shore or the crispy footfalls in virgin snow. The chinking of ice cubes in the tumbler or the crackle of the log fire in the hearth. Or nothing except the slow, deep inhalations of fresh air accompanied by the gentle beat of your heart.
Or somewhere like this;