I just put the little people away for the night and the hubby is out late for work. As I’m taking the time to write up this blog I realize that I am missing and craving solitude. Moving–which has been pretty awesome–has robbed me of my silent, alone, day-dreaming time. Sitting in the quiet now has reminded me that there has been a constant hum in my back ground. It has been made up of children, family, movers, tasks, schedules, installers, delivery folks, stressed animals and even unfamiliarity. All of these things have been a blessing to me over the last few weeks, but each one makes a noise–a disruption of the silence. Normally one or two of these sounds comes and goes, fading in and out of my life, and they aren’t too disruptive for too long. But lately I’ve noticed that all my sounds feel like they are overlapping and they are making me feel like I’m in the middle of a crowd in a stadium.

I can’t hear myself think. And I miss that.

Because as strange as it sounds, I like how I’m not lonely when thoughts float through my mind like wafting fog.

I crave moments where my head get to be blanketed in a layer of muffling thought snow.

I enjoy the anticipation of unraveling my solitude.

When do you crave the silence most?