Our homeschooling years were rarely quiet. With four boys whose ages spread across 10 years, moments of silence were usually cause for alarm. If they weren’t sick or sleeping, the absence of noise in our home meant they were up to something.

But occasionally, I would be surprised by a quiet that came from deep concentration. Whether it was a book, a drawing or simply preoccupation with their latest Lego creation, I was genuinely grateful they were engaged and, well, QUIET.

A very different season of quiet has settled on my home in recent months as I’ve taken a pause from doing what I love most — writing. It’s been four months since I used my “voice” to share thoughts and stories on my website. Four quiet months while I wrestled with some indecision and flexed a new muscle as a writer of fiction. But, it wasn’t just trying my hand at a different genre that created silence. These months have given me space to focus on growth and changes that have nothing to do with writing, but everything to do with what I have to say.

As the novel takes shape and my excitement grows over writing in a totally different avenue, I’m finding my voice again in other areas of my life and I’m excited to see what this season will birth as I open a blank page on my website and begin again.

. . .

I wrote for five quick minutes today on the one-word prompt “quiet” and linked my post with others at Five Minute Friday. Drop by to read other writers’ take on quiet.

A new season, a fresh look

If you haven’t been here for awhile, you may notice things look a bit different. As the focus for what I’d like to offer on this site shifted, I decided to create a fresh look as well. I hope you find this pivot appealing and the content worth your time. I’d like to leave you, the reader, with words that have inspired me as I return to writing creative non-fiction. They come from the recent newsletter of my friend and fellow author Nancy Nordenson. She writes that, post-covid…

“…it’s a good time to think about—but then, it’s always a good time to think about—the value of putting a body of work out into the world that aims for a common good beyond yourself, no matter your job title (including retired), industry, or the size and grandiosity or lack thereof of that body of work, as long as it’s what you have to give.”

As I write again here in this refreshed space, may it be for the common good. It’s what I have to give.