Quiet time ended when the doorbell rang at 7:30 pm. On the stoop through the glass door I could see the outline of our neighbor’s son, a five-year-old, standing at attention.
The little guy stops by from time to time mostly just to say, ‘hi.’ Tonight though he eagerly held something brand new to show: a can of Silly String. He was positively bursting with excitement. My husband, Alex (the younster’s primary target) was off at his weekly basketball game so I encouraged the friendly show and teller to come back tomorrow.
“Well, all right,” he said with a bit of worry and a warning, “but there probably won’t be anything left in the can.”
I admired his honesty. His parting comment is not far off from what I’ve been thinking lately. Is there anything left in my can? As I noted to Christina in an email exchange this morning, it was a year ago today that I appeared on the Sacramento ABC News affiliate morning show to talk about the unexpected and unsettling experiences resulting from infertility — all of which led me to write Silent Sorority. You could say the TV appearance was a capstone of sorts following what amounted to a decade equivalent of expelling Silly String and then working hard to sort it out and clean it all up.
With each passing day I get further and further away from the galvanizing effects of infertility. It will be four years come early February that I first started Coming2Terms. Between the blog and book — and with lots of reader help and insights — I’ve explored lots of territory, reconciled many conflicts and deconstructed and reconstructed my life.
It’s often been a quiet, defining period of my life, but the edges have softened and the hardcore emotional responses aren’t what they used to be. I suppose that’s what we can define as progress, right — success, even?
Where blog post ideas once tumbled out of me and competed for attention, I now happily possess a quieter mind. That’s not to say I’m not fully engaged in living, or that I don’t feel deeply — I am and do, and then some. It’s just the thoughts and emotions don’t churn angrily, confused or sadly as they routinely once did, thankfully, I might add.
It’s early in the new year and new plans are hatching. I’m not altogether sure where they’ll take me. Meanwhile, I’ll share with you these thoughts …
“Quiet minds cannot be perplexed or frightened but go
on in fortune or misfortune at their own private pace, like a clock during a thunderstorm.”- Robert Louis Stevenson
“To have a quiet mind is to possess one’s mind wholly; to have a calm spirit is to possess one’s self.” – Hamilton Wright Mabie
And if you’re a fan of poetry, you might find this poem, A Quiet Mind, written by Thomas Vaux (who lived in England from 1510-1556) a reminder that the quest for a quiet mind has been going on for centuries.
6 thoughts on “A Quiet Mind, Calm Spirit In the Wake of Unexplained Infertility”
Glad to hear you have come to a place of peace in your life… I know what you mean about the edges softening… and yes, it’s progress! although I must admit, I miss your keen insights when you’re not posting! ; ) I’ve always found that my writing (whether in my journal, in online forums or on my blog) has always been more prolific at the times of greatest angst in my life — it’s been a way of sorting things out. Which is not to say I still don’t find it cathartic or fulfilling to write — I’m just coming from a different place most days now. Happy new year!
Congratulations. Maybe it’s time to change the name of your website to “Come to Terms.” You should know that, in going through your own process, you’ve touched many, many women and helped them through theirs. Now you’re standing as a beacon of what coming to terms looks like. Keep shining, because we’re all heading your way. :-)
Thanks, Lori. Happy New Year to you, too! Glad to hear you’re also finding some peace. You and I share much in common with our writing. When in angst I head straight to the keyboard. My other writing muses are intellectual curiosity and societal commentary. Fortunately the two latter remain active. We’ll see where they take me…
Ahhh a quiet mind. I do like the sound of that. And, now that you mention it, mine has been much quieter lately as well. I hope that trend continues for both of us. I guess time has helped my wounds heal a bit and they aren’t as raw as they used to be. Personally, I’m not ready to take the band-aids off yet even if they are only hiding scars at this point, but I’ll get there someday.
I really enjoy reading your blog, not just because I can relate to its subject, I simply enjoy reading the words of the author. I’m sure your readers would enjoy posts from you on any topic. I know I would. :)
Thanks, Sue! As for the quiet mind, I’m glad you’re feeling it, too. Wishing you and all the readers here a new year filled with strength and peace and happiness.
A quiet mind is a beautiful thing. I’m glad you have one.