Silence with a Side of Stirring
Silence with a Side of Stirring is the only phrase I can use to make sense of what is going on in my mind. There is SO much I want to say. In saying that, I stay silent for fear of judgment, isolation, retaliation, and so much more. People need to realize that if someone is quiet, don’t mistake that silence for ignorance, apathy, or stupidity. I have not been silent for any of those reasons.
This season or the new year, I have been reading many books. I read books on the Holocaust because the resilience of the Jewish people and the Gypsies inspire me. They rise in the face of such pain, trauma, starvation, and so much more. I have also been reading about trauma, making peace with your past, working through unforgiveness, and so much more. In March, I only read a couple more books and started a few more. I intend on finishing those I started and working through my library.
My goal is to work through some of the things. In my mind, questions, comments, and statements have been made. These things have been obtained by the authors of the books I’ve been reading. There are still some things I am processing through, and I must stop and mull some statements over.
I read something on Instagram (of all places) that says, “A history of trauma will have you mistaking peace for boredom.” That is where I have found myself. I have gone from many children in my home to a few, which is strange. It is a strange feeling to hear myself think or breathe. Everything that surrounds me and everyone is loud. I have a lot of people in my life, and I love the noise of the laughter, discussions, and busyness.
Now, it isn’t so busy. I have married children, children in college, and then those at home. It’s quiet. Painfully so. In that quietness has come peace. A peace I never thought I would experience in my lifetime. I thought my days would have a shorter number because of the constant state of stress that I lived under.
Don’t get me wrong, there is still stress, stressors, medical issues, and some busyness, but not near what I was experiencing. For instance, today, we are down a vehicle on spring break; one kid is having surgery, another has obligations, a mom that needs to see my face due to severe health issues, and phone calls to be made.
I feel like I need to go back to work or volunteer or do something. My days are spent resting (quite literally) and reading; sometimes, I binge-watch television, clean, organize, and cook. After school lets out, it gets hectic with homework and running kids from here to there. Also, I keep my sweetness on 2 days a week, so she completely occupies my time.
Peace vs. Boredom
Webster’s Dictionary defines PEACE as “a state of tranquility or quiet, freedom from disquieting or oppressive thoughts or emotions, harmony in personal relations .” On the other hand, BOREDOM is defined as “the state of being weary and restless through lack of interest.”
Basically, what I thought of as being “bored” is actually the definition of “peace.” That is so weird, and it is even stranger to feel. I am not weary, restless, or lacking interest in things. I just feel funny with the silence and no fires to put out. For so long, that’s what I did. I would get up in the morning, fill up my water pistol, walk downstairs into hell, and put the fires out at my feet. Fight, flight, freeze, and fawn mode is the state(s) that I lived in for years.
I don’t have that anymore. It’s like, “now what?” What do I do with myself? It is quiet. I only do one load of laundry a day. There are not 5 dogs barking in the house, no 30 cats waiting to come in and eat, no chickens to feed/collect from, no drama, no fighting, no hospital stays, nothing.
I find myself, randomly, breaking into a fit of tears over nothing and everything all at the same time. It’s like my body is releasing all the tension that has been collected for the last 16 years. I don’t think I go a day without crying randomly. All things are triggers. I am beginning to allow myself to feel for the first time in a long, long time.
Revelations and Realizations
This past weekend, I could visit with all my children at one point and way or another. It was a bittersweet feeling knowing they were all so close, yet not all under my roof. I wasn’t sure how I would handle one visit. My son and I had a great conversation, and I revel in how our relationship has changed. It is so good, and it forces a communication we both longed for but didn’t know how to achieve. We are slowly gaining it, and I’m so thankful and proud of the young man he is becoming.
Another son came, and we had a deep conversation. The conversation that we typically have via the phone but this time, I got to see his face, and he saw mine. Sometimes that is so needed. I look at him in awe of where he is in life and that he is growing up and making some good (and bad) adult decisions but is trying to do his best. That’s all I could ever ask for. We had fun running around town.
My girls (2 of them) could come over, and we enjoyed our grandbaby and soon-to-be grandbaby. We laughed, ate, messed up, and gobbed for a long time. It was so lovely. My adult children are coming into their own in what they like and don’t like. They are such good wives and moms. I love it. I also love that I have their significant others to help do some things around my house…cook…and just let me be me and love me regardless. It must be hard coming into a family like mine. Bless them.
Bart and I met up with our third daughter. We hadn’t seen her in a while, and she was able to come down. We met and gave her some of her treasures. We were able to finally find them while unpacking ALL the boxes from our move. That has been a thing…so hard and emotional to go through them all (and there were so many). I could find most of what she had been looking for, and we got her some groceries and snack foods for her trip back to where she stays. I said the things that were on my heart, and I was able to hug her.
Relearning How to Do Life
Not too long ago, Bart told me that I had to trim down my cooking. I’m used to cooking for 10 or more people. I don’t think I have ever cooked small. I can make a casserole out of leftovers. Shelf-cooking is a daily happening. I don’t need much to feed a ton of people. Yet, I can’t figure out how to cook for just a few.
The other night, I made a ham, turkey, bacon, and potato type of concoction (needing to use a lot of 1/2 packages in my fridge and pantry). I thought I was doing good. Then, I realized I had enough to fill up 3 13×9 dishes :/ I kid you not. There was a 1/2 package of turkey, 1/2 a pound of bacon, 1/2 of a thing of Ky Legend Ham, about 6 potatoes, some leftover spinach, you get the point. So, we ate on that for a week. I froze the whole last one (we are having that tonight). Honestly, I can’t cook for a few.
Can anyone relate to this? I can leave the house for 1 hour to run to the store, which is okay. We are considering downsizing our vehicle because one kid is close to being able to afford a car, the other is getting ready for his permit, and then our youngest…well, we have to cart him around.
What I Can/Cannot Control.
I am learning that I can’t control other people’s words, actions, or thoughts. What I can control are my reactions. If something seems “off,” I can make phone calls and find out the truths that help soothe my soul. I can’t control if someone is being honest, but let me tell you, it is easier to remember the fact than to remember what lie you told what person. That has to be hard to come up with. I’m at peace, regardless.
What some people say and how others are so easily manipulated is unfortunate. People I have known for a lifetime believe all the bad things without stopping to think, “is what is being said indicative of the last XXX I have known this person?” If it doesn’t match up, use your words with that person, not gossiping or assuming. It really is that simple.
So much to say, but my boy baby is on his way home. He had to have a procedure. For now, he needs my attention. Peace. I am at peace. I am not bored and do not need to fill up my life with unnecessary crap. This is a season for healing…once I’m healed, the Lord will guide me to my next project.
You must log in to post a comment.