Quiet Space

Breakfast for Your Soul

While I don’t believe in prescriptions for living, I advocate for calm. For quiet spaces that open your heart and free your mind. One of my best investments in comfort is the rocking chair on our porch that sits facing east for the new day. Most mornings I step outside to an ebony sky. The last few stars are yawning. I’m mummy-wrapped in fleece from head to toe with a furry fuschia robe and old ankle-high shearling slippers. With coffee in hand, I rock and sip as the stars fade and the morning light floods the sky. It’s a setting for being mindful and for meditation.

With a hint of the new day backyard birds sing. Some smooth, some brittle, their collective noise like an orchestra tuning. The curious chorus continues until the sky turns blue and the sun ascends tall pines in my neighbor’s yard. Then a new sound emerges. It’s the low rumble from the first wave of cars beyond our little forest. Its soothing like the white noise from a conch shell. I rock until peace is in my pores.

In the summer, sometimes I rock at noon as well. The sky can’t match the sunrise, but the garden can. It’s filled with soulful offerings like lavender and rosemary, bee balm and roses. Last summer I made friends with the daisies who grow beside the rocker. Three capital white blooms introduced themselves in June while a gang of newbies waited their turn below. The blooms leaned to me in salutation. I said hello.

Having the daisies live so close to home, I saw them rise and unfold throughout the summer. First with tight green buds, then with emancipated petals. For weeks blooms stood two-feet-tall with circles of perfectly white petals surrounding golden, nubby yolks. In August, when their heads drooped and their petals wilted, I trimmed their stems like an undertaker. 

Sometimes our dogs Lance and Clarissa nap at my feet. I rock in sync with their sleepy breath. Clarissa died recently, but I have a clear memory of her flat-out on the porch, resting on my right. With a quiet mind my soul absorbs the richness in soulful moments, the nourishment. My wish for anyone who gets anxious or lives with a mental illness is a quiet space. It’s as healing as anything but so hard to craft. Consider creating one as a holiday gift to yourself. Merry, merry! xoxo, Maureen