Right now I crave quiet like some crave chocolate. A deep, full ache rises and swells and then I'm yelling over the noise and searching for a bit of quiet. 

Of still. 

I'm thinking about the quiet ones. The ones who need to bend in order to fit into this loud world. 

But why do we need to bend? Why can't we create a place where it's okay to be quiet? Why is it that noise equals happy and quiet equals withdrawn? 

How many of us hear the phrase "It's the quiet ones you have to watch out for..." and cringe? 

I'm finding that the older I get, my need for quiet, and space to hear myself think, has gotten bigger. Perhaps it's not a coincidence that as my children have gotten older, it seems harder to find that space, that time. The time that was allotted for naps is now gone,  early bedtimes are giving way to later nights and earlier mornings. Homeschooling, while still a choice that is completely right for our family, can be noisy. Being at home with two growing children is not quiet work. But homeschooling, having the opportunity to morph our days into exactly what we need, has made me thankful for the time at home, or in nature, where we can be still and quiet together. But those times are rare, as most often the children find ways to voice their opinions, and stories, and songs in voices that are not indoor voices - which is natural and I am happy that they are finding their voices, period. But sometimes I wish they were a tad bit softer... 

I'm trying to instill in them that soft voices can still be heard. They are still worthy. They count and matter and can be trusted as much - if not more - than the shouts of our noisy world. 

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