by Steph W.
I have been thinking about my stepmother's Quaker faith. Though she was not very religious, she identified deeply with her Quaker roots, socially and morally, throughout her life. I've only attended one Quaker meeting. It was her marriage to my dad 15 years ago. In a week, I will go to my second Quaker-style service -- her funeral.
I have been thinking about their wedding; I was fascinated with the Quaker service. It was very different from what I was accustomed to. There was no one to guide the congregation through centuries-old rituals or offer a homily. No one spoke to the congregation, teaching them about their faith. Instead there was silence.
It was almost disconcerting to me, after spending 26 years immersed in our society, to participate in the long silence. For most people in our culture, silence is the moment when we're waiting to talk or for someone to speak. It's an uncomfortable thing. If there is a brief silence in a conversation, someone rushes in to fill the void - offering some sort of chatter - sparing everyone from discomfort. If it becomes silent in the house, people rush fill the "emptiness" with chatter, turn on music, or click on the television. Normalcy returns.
In the Quaker meeting, understanding is offered not by a trained minister but through That Which is of God in Every Man. Everyone sits in silence. In the stillness, he waits for God to speak to him -- to speak through him. Truth is not something that needs to be homilized about, recited, or discussed. It is a spark within each person. But before she speaks, she needs to listen.
There is something in this that resonates within me deeply. I have been thinking about whether we allow this kind of silence to enter our daily lives and our lifestyle of learning at home. As a mom of young kids, much of my time and energy is absorbed in noise, clutter, and busyness. Like many home schooling moms, I spend a great deal of time planning, getting stuff done, and wondering whether I'm doing enough. Are the kids learning enough, retaining enough, developing as they should? In the midst of all that -- is there room for silence?
Looking back, some of our most memorable moments were not lessons or projects we did, ideas we talked about, or hours spent on the couch reading aloud. All those things are richly important. But some of our most memorable experiences have been of a different nature.
One day, I took the older kids to the Blue Ridge Parkway, and we hiked up to the Humpback Rocks. It's a grueling hike, and I would not have made it without a lot of encouragement from my high-energy nine-year-old son. Most of our time on the trail, like most of our lives, was saturated with the kids' constant stream of chatter -- talking, shouting, singing, laughing, whining, complaining, and more talking. When we got near the top, it was close to sunset. Fellow hikers had told us there was a deer just ahead. So we got quiet. For a few rare moments, we walked in silence. Then we saw her -- a gorgeous doe. She was amazingly unphased by our presence. No one spoke. We heard the rustling of leaves under the deer's feet and a ripple of wind in the branches above us. We saw the softening sky above us. Soon the deer left, and we continued to trudge noisily up the mountainside. For me, this had been one of the most memorable moments in our home schooling adventures.
There have been moments when my older daughter and I shared a rare moment of silence, just writing, as we worked on a novel together. In those moments, we created something bigger and more fertile than what we'd accomplished in weeks of lessons. There were mornings when my son and I were the only ones awake in the house. During those minutes, as I puttered around the kitchen, we wouldn't speak. He'd huddle over the heating vent with a well-worn collection of "Calvin and Hobbes" comics. In was in these moments, after months of carefully planned lessons had fizzled, that James taught himself to read.
In the weeks ahead, I hope to be more mindful of allowing more silence into our lives. Moments of stillness. Time to be quiet, with no expectations, and allow new ideas to germinate. Silent moments when we can really see, hear and feel what's around us. Maybe this would allow us each to get closer to that inner spark, That Which is of God in Each of Us, that allows us to grow, understand, and become. Even an occasional moment like this might be rich enough to be remembered for a lifetime.
Stephanie W. lives with her family in the beautiful Shenandoah Valley of Virginia. She has been learning at home full time with her three wonderfully creative, feisty and quirky children since 2003. Her other interests include literature, writing, editing, and the internet.
I enjoyed your entry. I was raised as a Quaker and used to long for moments of silence. Now, I add a little bit of silence to each day with my kids. It is good for them to be one with themselves for a little while.
Blessings,
dawn
www.homeschoolblogger.com/my4sweetums
Posted by: Dawn | December 26, 2007 at 08:46 AM
I enjoyed your entry. I was raised as a Quaker and used to long for moments of silence. Now, I add a little bit of silence to each day with my kids. It is good for them to be one with themselves for a little while.
Blessings,
dawn
www.homeschoolblogger.com/my4sweetums
Posted by: Dawn | December 26, 2007 at 08:46 AM
I'm sorry about your loss, Stephanie.
I think silence is vastly under-rated with all the buzz that's usually going on in our lives. We're fortunate enough to live far out in the country and have some of that silence except for nature's gifts. (We still get the truck noise from the interstate a couple of miles away.)
Nothing is better than walking out to a snow covered backyard and just hearing that scrunch squeak of snow hitting your boots. I taught our kids how to build igloo forts for one,so they could just lay down inside the snow in the white glow of silence.
Thanks for reminding me about the importance of silence.
Posted by: Susan Ryan | December 29, 2007 at 10:05 AM
You are so right about the lack of silence in our lives. I used to work at a university and it amazed me how uncomfortable the kids would be when the radio was turned off--they didn't know how to function without a soundtrack! How were they supposed learn to listen to their inner selves with all that noise going on around them?
Posted by: Rachel Wright | January 02, 2008 at 09:10 AM
1st - I am sorry for your loss.
2nd - What a timely post for me. I need some silence in my life. I am reading Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert right now and there is a quote in there (I am paraphrasing) about how Praying is talking to God and Meditating is Listening to God. Yes. Quiet time for Meditation, Listening, and Sitting with Oneself has got to be a good thing! Thank you for your thoughts on this!
Posted by: Homestead Mama | January 02, 2008 at 10:25 AM
1st - I am sorry for your loss.
2nd - What a timely post for me. I need some silence in my life. I am reading Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert right now and there is a quote in there (I am paraphrasing) about how Praying is talking to God and Meditating is Listening to God. Yes. Quiet time for Meditation, Listening, and Sitting with Oneself has got to be a good thing! Thank you for your thoughts on this!
Posted by: Homestead Mama | January 02, 2008 at 10:26 AM
1st - I am sorry for your loss.
2nd - What a timely post for me. I need some silence in my life. I am reading Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert right now and there is a quote in there (I am paraphrasing) about how Praying is talking to God and Meditating is Listening to God. Yes. Quiet time for Meditation, Listening, and Sitting with Oneself has got to be a good thing! Thank you for your thoughts on this!
Posted by: Homestead Mama | January 02, 2008 at 10:27 AM
Beautiful post. I think I would like to quietly meditate on it.
My condolences for your recent loss. She sounds like she really enriched your life.
Posted by: Cristina | January 02, 2008 at 10:33 AM
Thanks so much for participating in this week's Carnival of Family Life hosted at Pajama Mommy Community! This post is a wonderful entry from which readers can, like me, learn much. I'm very sorry about the loss of your stepmother.
Be sure to drop by and check out some of the other wonderful entries this week!
Posted by: JSH | January 06, 2008 at 12:20 AM