Do you ever want to just be quiet? I work in the world of words – books, stories, screenplays, pitches, dialogue, monologue, email, text, voicemail, Facebook, Twitter – the word-flow is unending. Words hold value. They convey meaning. They wield power. And they’re being tossed out without forethought. Like they don’t have an effect.
Sometimes, words overwhelm me. I crave silence. Simple silence. No one communicating. No message to hear or decipher. Just silence.
The problem is that I suck at being still. I know, I know. All my Christian readers just thought, “‘Be still and know that I am God,’ Rebeca, it’s in the Bible.” You’re right. A close friend of mine, Russ Pruiett, sings a gorgeous version of that song. Every time Russ sings it, I smile. I am still while he sings.
But then the song ends. And the phone rings. Or my kiddos need something. Or the Droid dings. Or my husband has something to share. Or a client has an idea. Or an author/artist wants to talk about coming into Reclaim. Or an editor wants to talk about acquiring a project. Or a publisher wants to see if GRPR can provide publicity for a book. Or a family member needs a writing favor. Or, or, or. All the words rush back in. They’re important words. They need my attention and reaction. To show love, I must listen and give a considered response.
Except I crave silence. My ears hurt from hearing, my eyes ache from reading.
I have to give myself permission to be quiet and sit in the silence. To not think about what needs done, who needs what from me. To just go rest in the Father God’s lap and be quiet.
How do you manage to be still? Do you have a special place to which you run for silence? A ritual that ushers in the quiet?