As the lovely boyf closed the door behind him this morning, the silence was heavy in the pit of my stomach; butterflies hovering nervously above. He is on a last minute business trip to Boston, the 11 yr old is in Devon with her Dad… it’s just me and the dogs (ok, and the cat, chooks, fish and hamster!)
I used to love silence, I was a curl up with a book in my room kinda gal. Then came growing up, work, marriage, baby and all the accompanying noise, broken up briefly by the thundering silence of the divorce, before being filled again with new friends and family (both two legged and four).
I have actively cultivated a busy, noisy life and when the boyf, now a firm fixture in that life, started travelling more frequently it would throw me into such a panic. I was too reliant on our busy, managing-the-day-together camaraderie. Such things can't last however, it was time to grow up again and I am now slowly learning to find my way back to the joy of real silence and my own company.
It is surprising how much free time you have when there is just yourself to mind and, instead of worrying about how to fill it, I have a schedule of things I'd like to get done, if I have time. Little projects that on a normal busy day would never make it past a thought. I have enjoyed a day of dog walks, dinner in the garden, painting and stitching. I am looking forward to it all again tomorrow, and Wednesday too.
By Thursday I'll be itching for my two back home, which they will be... bringing with them that lovely chatter of home and family.
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