I'm at the point where I need about a week of silence and solitude to appreciate the nonstop hullabaloo and pandemonium of my life. Just one week to breathe a real breath, think a complete thought, sleep a deep sleep, savor a full meal, collect my thoughts, and miss my family.
I have required solitude for as long as I can remember. Regroup. Re-energize. Reflect. Decide. Prioritize. Plan. Dream. But these days quiet moments are few and far between. And in those few and far between moments, my mind swirls with thoughts about what I want to do, need to do, have to do, should be doing. My head feels like it is stuffed with cotton, and I can visualize my thoughts trying to wade through the fluffy tufts to catch my attention. On really good days, several of those thoughts push their way through, and I feel like I've made some headway in life. Other days, I slither into bed at the end of the day and realize I didn't make much progress in an aspect of my life.
I don't believe I am the only person in the world that feels this way. That feels if she just had a week of quiet she could rule the world again. That if she could just get a few moments of solitude, she could re-energize and in turn, be a better wife, mom, and friend. Yet, it's something no one ever talks about. We just paste on our best smiles and swear up and down that everything is, "Fine! Just fine! And how are you?" while inside we are longing for the sounds of silence.