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Meanwhile, enjoy this archived monthly greeting from July '10!

An Eye of Quiet

The sound of crickets takes me back to the lazy summers of my childhood when days stretched ahead with endless possibilities. I loved the quiet pace of summer, the chance to wander alone in the woods, or get together with a friend or two and exercise imaginations.

These days the only thing that seems to stretch ahead of me is an endless whirl of musts and shoulds and ough-tos. Quick, quick, quick. Faster, faster, faster. A few would-like-tos lie buried in there somewhere, but they're tough to get to.

I wouldn't have heard those crickets recently if a wave of tiredness hadn't hit me. The temperature had risen to the nineties and a thick blanket of humid haze had swamped the house. The afternoon slant of sun threw cooler shadows on the deck. I flopped on a chair and sat there, listening to the finches sing, the squirrels quibble, and the faint stir of breeze surf through the trees.

And something magical happened.

Time slowed down. I could hear my own thoughts instead of the usual manic scurry. Muscles I hadn't realized had tensed relaxed. And little by little the edge of fatigue unraveled.

That half hour of doing nothing reminded me how important it is to take time to sit with yourself. The musts and shoulds and have-tos hadn't disappeared, but somehow the panicked urgency behind them had dissipated.

Characters need an eye of quiet in the storm of a story, too. This breather gives them a chance to process what's happened to them, revise plans, or come to a realization that allows them to alter the course of the story. The plot and problems fire a reader's mind, but it's those quiet story moments that feed her soul.

Instead of an article, I'll offer you the view from my deck. How could I not take time to enjoy this sight more often?

Until next time, keep reading--and take a few minutes out of the storm of life to enjoy an eye of quiet.

Sylvie