Quiet Times

In the name of the restful Father,
In the Name of the peaceful Son,
In the Name of the calming Spirit,
May we and God be one.

Bless, O God, the dwelling,
And each who rests herein this night;
Bless, O God, my dear ones
In every place wherein they sleep;

In the night that is tonight,
And every single night;
In the day that is today,
And every single day.

There are two especially easy times for me to be quiet and think or meditate. A little bit after I get up, and in the wee hours, often not long before I go to bed. Of those, the latter is often easier.

In the wee hours, there’s less traffic, fewer sirens and train horn blasts. Fewer people are out and about in general, thus the noise level is lower. There’s no one a building or two away blasting their bass for the entire neighborhood, there aren’t any kids yelling and screaming in the courtyard.

Perhaps that’s one reason I enjoy being up at this time of night/morning. I’m decidedly introverted, not to the point of shyness—as anyone who’s met me can attest—but certainly to the point of curmudgeonliness at least some of the time. I can do social interaction, I just don’t care for it. In a discussion of the Myers-Briggs personality inventory typings, it was put very well. You’re introverted if you get your energy or renewal from being alone, and you’re extroverted if you get your energy or renewal from being around people, often the more the better. When put like that, I’m absolutely introverted, but can act occasionally like an extrovert if the occasion calls for it and I have enough preparation.

Tomorrow, my solitude will be broken somewhat by my husband John’s arrival home. This brings on mixed feelings, of course. Home is a sanctuary for me, where I can shut people out and renew myself. I won’t have that to myself any more much of the time. So that’s, in a way, one definition of marriage for me—the allowance of my sanctuary to be breached. The mixed feelings come in because yes, I do miss him, and do enjoy being with him.

I’m willing to bet that John has some of the same mixed feelings. He’s also very introverted. I can imagine that while he’s away, his motel room probably becomes his sanctuary, the more so the longer he’s in a particular one. Yet his permanent sanctuary is our home, and he wants to be here, and to be with me.

I realize now that this is why we’ve agreed that when we ever get a house, we’ll have enough bedrooms to each have one to ourselves, as a sanctuary we can even shut each other out of. Hmmm… I hadn’t thought of it quite that way.

Tell me about it...