20/20 My Happiness Project

This past week I lost my voice (I contracted laryngitis) and it was a thought-provoking experience. Usually, when I am not speaking to someone, it is, I'm sad to say because I am angry, or ticked off. Or perhaps I've been hurt by someone so I retreat into a cave of silence, build walls of distance as thick as concrete and as seemingly impenetrable.

But this forced quiet brought me a curious sense of peace. It taught me the value of quietude.

I was happy, reflective.

I could not engage in any conflict that took place between my husband and daughter. I had to remain an observer, somewhat detached from the intense emotion of the moment, the energy pulsating around me did not draw me in.

Certainly, I missed the laughter, the joking, the day to day discourse normally shared with my family. I missed talking with my friends. I found I had to "save up," like money collecting in the bank, the things that I wanted to pass on or the events that had happened.

But the quiet gave me the time to let my thoughts come together with clarity, to sort through issues that had been been pressing in on me. Piling my thoughts like laundry, separating the dark, somber thoughts from the contrasting white ones, loading the gentle softer colors into different baskets, giving each thought a context, a place. This is the gift of quiet.

My sister-in-law once gave me a framed picture of a photograph that she had taken. It is of a treed path, sunshine casting lights on that path as it goes into the distance. It is tranquil, inviting, and filled with mystery. Perhaps, you hear the song-bird, or the trees rustling in the wind. You feel the cool of the covered path and the warmth caressing you as you walk through the rays of sunshine. This is happiness of quiet.

Then there is the quiet happiness of being. Together. Sitting together reading, engrossed in a good book, the spider web of words weaving tales of history, intrigue, tragedy, love, mystery or romance. Being outside on our deck side by side drinking a homemade iced coffee; soaking up the sights, sounds and smells of our neighborhood. Watching the creamy clouds skittering across the blues of the skies. Hearing the trees in wind, seeing them swaying gently to a music all of their own. Inhaling the sweet fragrance of our lilac trees. Listening to lawns being mowed, fresh smells the grass newly cut. Curling up in our family room, watching old movies or old TV series that we've collected, laughing or crying or being caught up in the stories being told. Eating popcorn, richly buttered, warm and lightly salted, these are moments of quiet happiness indeed.

The happiness of quiet is in the dark velvet blanket of the sky with glittering, twinkling stars. It is knowing in the quietness that there is surely Someone bigger than me, that the Heavens though sometimes also silent, have answers and that the questions that are constellations of doubt will one day be swept away by the look of absolute Love.

In quietness we learn to listen, really listen. We learn to hear what isn't being said.

I am enthralled by all I have to learn, to discover...it makes me, happy.

Shhh....listen with me to all that the quiet has to teach us about happiness.