Quiet is underrated with a double r.
A punctuation mark, if you will, between the coming and going, the speaking and fidgetting, singing and yelling, slamming of car doors, TV blaring and egg sizzling sentences that make up our days.
A well-needed nap, perhaps, in a 26 hour car journey across the continent from East to West. In the back of an orange station wagon, once you realise that the Nullabour is kinda the same. All the way across.
The fast between meals, the blink whilst watching an action scene, the breath between strokes of the Australian crawl.
The space inbetween the beats which makes it a 4/4 and not a 1.
The black in space that makes the stars shine brighter.
Quiet makes edges. It creates meaning.
And yet it is so so hard to find.
I kinda have it right now, and I am loving it.
May your weekend bring you at least one small piece of quiet.
