what a quiet life means to me

me, longing

to me, a quiet life is solitude but only in the best sense. it means being comfortable by yourself, knowing that you could live happily with the voice inside your head, just you and your conscious being against the world. it means you could take yourself out to see parts of the world you’ve always dreamt about, parts of your small town where people smile as they pass you by on the street, parts of the home you’ve carefully put together, the home that acts as an extension of everything you love but in material form. a quiet life means being okay with yourself, knowing yourself enough to know what you need when the only colour you’ve seen in the sky is grey for what feels like entire seasons, when it’s sunny and you’re giddy with excitement and when you feel neither here nor there, a little bored, a little tired, but you know you will see the other side. a quiet life is a confident life. one where you know how to tend your garden to make all the right flowers bloom at the right time.

a quiet life is solitude but only at the right times. it’s knowing when it’s time to blow out the candles and throw the blanket off your knees. it’s knowing when it’s time to open the curtains, open the windows and let the songs and gentle taps of nature hit your skin and your ears. it’s having a close knit of friends, who you can be completely yourself around. knowing that they understand if you go quiet for a while, and when you and the world are back on the same page, it’s knowing when to reach out to them again, sip piping hot teas and bare all your teeth as you laugh opposite each other. it’s walking around the small town you’ve moved to and your friends telling you how happy for you they are. it’s visiting them back in the big city and telling them how much you love and appreciate them. it’s wandering bookshops and charity shops and museums. it’s people watching and last minute cinema trips. it’s picnics in the park in august and overstaying your welcome in café bars in january. it’s that soporific feeling you get when you return home, like you’ve just eaten a really good meal, and you could drift off to sleep at any moment with a full heart. it’s looking forward to a day of replenishing tomorrow.