Tag Archives: Quiet

The Real Inside Story

Great. Only four posts in, and I’m already making puns out of my own post titles. This bodes poorly.

Ill-advised though it may be to have two consecutive posts with such similar titles, I shall proceed nonetheless, because that’s just the kind of stubborn sonovabitch I am.

A couple of weekends ago, I had a lot of time for reflection and rumination. This was a good thing. It helped me to put some stuff in perspective and get a sort of mental picture of what’s important and what’s not. It’s easy to allow down time to become do-nothing-except-slob-around-and-watch-TV time, but that’s a trap I’ve fallen into on one too many occasions. It’s unproductive and generally makes me feel worse about myself, because I basically did fuck-all.

A flower in the Halifax Public Gardens
This is a flower. You might be familiar with the concept. You might have even seen one. Or smelled one. If you stopped rushing around long enough.
This time, not so much. I got to thinking about how nice it is to be quiet sometimes. To be slow. To not rush. To look at the world instead of barrelling through it.

I’ve always been prone to overwhelm. That’s just the way my psyche is constructed. If there’s too much going on around me, I can’t focus. If I’m in a roomful of people who are chatting amongst themselves, I can barely hear the person I’m talking to through the background noise.

I know there must be a name for it. But damned if I know what it is.

Whatever it’s called, it sucks.

Continue reading The Real Inside Story