When I was parenting young children, peace and quiet were cherished moments after they fell asleep at night or during stolen minutes in the bathroom when I luckily escaped without a child for a quick pee break. I dreamt of more peace and quiet. In essence, these daydreams boiled down to having more time for focusing on me rather than on others. Yeah, a bit selfish, but during a time when I could feel my identity and my dreams slipping away from me, this me time felt like a vital component to survival.
Now I have so much peace and quiet that I instinctually look for noise to fill it. Music, the television, the hushed clicking of the ceiling fan all keep me from falling into a void that could easily be filled with insanity. While I’m thankful those days of chaotic child-rearing are behind me, I still treasure every second spent with my young adult children. They are my lifelines. As close to the void of peace and quiet–which now feel more like nothingness than bliss–as I might travel, my children pull me back to the sanctuary of love and comfort.
I am so grateful that I a parent and have experienced the ups and downs that come with it. I am honored to have been instrumental in raising beautiful, compassionate children who are a positive force in society, and I can think of no greater blessing than to continue to be allowed into their inner sanctum, even if only for brief interludes, for the rest of my life.
And during those times when my children are busy with their own lives, I will return to my peace and quiet and use it to fulfill my passions. I will spend my free hours writing, reading, learning, crafting and dreaming up new worlds filled with interesting characters with lives way more compelling than my own.