Quiet

I know it's been forever since I've blogged. I think that I always apologize on here for checking out for so long. I have a million journal entries from my younger years that start out the same exact way. "Sorry it's been so long . . ." yada yada yada. But truthfully, some strange part of me secretly feels in control and rebellious and independent when I don't share anything with anybody (not even myself on paper) for a while. Is that weird? Possibly I have issues. I probably do. But it got me thinking tonight. About being quiet. So many of us have those moments. They are a little more sporadic for me, since I am normally a pretty "loud" person, to say the least. But yes, even I enjoy my phases of not chatting away with someone ALL. THE. TIME. Do you know why? Because you get to really LISTEN. Just listen. Usually these quiet states of solitude are enduced by a trial, pain, or a deeply spiritual or personal experience which for some reason takes me days or weeks to quietly sort through instead of just during the closing prayer at church. I wonder about other quiet people. I've met them in grocery stores, I've done their hair, taken care of their sick loved ones, sat by them in church. How often do I stumble across someone in their "quiet phase," their transitional period between tough spots in life? How often have people met me and thought "what a quiet lonely woman," just because I had a bad day and couldn't muster up a sincere laugh at their cheesy joke? I wonder how many of them are the permanently-injured-type who desperately need someone to be their friend, and how many are the ones like me, having a brief lapse in their social life. But you know something? I don't think it really matters. Because whether you feel a certain way for a second or for eternity, it still is important and moving and monumental because you felt it. Either way, all of these ramblings come down to one boiling point: Sometimes there's nothing wrong with a little quiet.