I invite you to take a deep breath and imagine a quiet world.
Having done so myself, I now see two ways to take this. We can focus on stuff and/or we can consider something important about being human. Or both. Not kidding.
In the world of stuff, I have a new bathrobe. Last week I told you I was going to a Coyuchi pop-up to support Kim of Northern California Style, right? Well I won a giveaway! Which I hadn’t even known was happening! I won a big woven basket filled with a couple of bottles of wine, some Sacher chocolate cake, Sugar Scrub from Fresh (I’ve always wanted to try it), a wooden hairbrush, a scrub brush, a big bar of hard-milled soap, a bunch of lavender and this bathrobe.
Made of organic cotton, it’s really soft, so none of the thick terrycloth that feels like hockey pads. Not that I know what hockey pads feel like of course. I briefly wished I lived on the East Coast so I could stride about in a coat like this kicking at autumn leaves.
A reader saw my meager account of the day on Instagram, and asked if I’d review the robe here. It’s been my pleasure. (BTW, I’m wearing a S/M because, broad shoulders.) So of course I had to go look at the robe on Coyuchi’s site, in order to could tell you what it was called. Then the sites many images of sheets and beds and towels prompted the request to imagine a quiet world.
You can maybe see why.
Organic, neutral, bed linens – what’s to do but sigh and stretch out?
(By the way winning the basket made me so ebullient that I gave the scrub brush and soap to my Uber driver. He was pleased.)
Saying, “Imagine a quiet world” also made me stop typing and listen. It’s been raining here. This morning I could hear infinite raindrops falling, nothing else. That’s one kind of quiet. Now the rain has stopped, and all I can hear is a series of drops falling on my doorstop, tock, tock, tock, slowly, and a crow that has begun to caw nearby. OK, smaller birds have taken up the song. Yet another kind of quiet.
Were I the Buddha, I guess I’d find nature’s non-noise sufficient forever and ever. But I’m not. My mother always used to tell the story of how, on a rainy morning, home alone with three kids under five, she hid in the coat closet. Sitting on all our rubber boots. She never said how long she stayed there.
So, quiet, arrived at however.
Love to all and a happy weekend.
20 Responses
This is the first time I’ve seen a view of your braid from the back – my god, it’s beautiful! The many shades of your hair, the chunkiness of the plaits themselves, the lovely curl at the end – keep it nicely trimmed, dear Lisa, but never cut it off!
And the cut of that robe looks so great on you – you might consider getting a winter coat in that style, which would look so snazzy with boots. Or does your life on the Peninsula not require winter coats with all the trimmings?
(As you might remember, life here in Princeton requires an array of winter coverings, from baseball jackets to full-length furs (preferably fake), so I speak with great authority on this subject!)
@victoire, Thank you for the braid appreciation! And my life on the Peninsula really doesn’t require more than the one camel coat I have – that I wear for dressed up nights out. Daytimes we are all in parkas if it’s at all chilly, for better or worse;). I do remember the coated Princeton life!
I’m chuckling as I read this because this morning has been anything but quiet for me. Some of the sounds have been delightful (the rhythmic percussion of my granddaughter’s flamenco class), some not so much (annual fire alarm testing in the condo and the howls of a grandson whose parents needed respite from his fractious mood…. so I’m imagining your raindrops, thank you
@Frances, My pleasure to share:). I do love the idea of a granddaughter’s flamenco class up in a rainy city.
The robe looks warm, cozy and very plush…and like a former reader I love that braid and the variations of grey.
Its very quiet here too…a small island quiet that includes the call of the ravens and the high pitched sounds of eagles…the waves lapping at the shore.
Quiet time is very important to me…it is key to my well being.
Enjoy your foot scrub! I’ve tried their rose face scrub too and love the scent.
@Leslie Anne Lord, Small island quiet is one of the absolute best quiets in the world – especially if it comes with a vista :)
Sitting in the cupboard on the rubber boots. I feel like that most days. Love your robe, so well deserved. And you shared the unexpected blessing with someone randomly – what a win/win story. Agree about your braid. It really is gorgeous. Live long and prosper. Xxxx
@TJ, Thank you! Maybe my second novel will be called The Cupboard Of The Rubber Boots. Of course I have to finish with the first one first;).
Lisa,
I agree with your readers that your braid is magnificent. Buddha might say be with it. I hope you treasure its harmonious appeal.
Your mom sounds anxious and most of us have been to that closet either literally or metaphorically.
I’m now trying to stay out of there.
Be All You Are,
Luci
@luci, My mom was anxious, I figure I got mine from her. We can all stay out here together. I’m glad you like my braid – I never get to see it either!
Your braid is beautiful and I’m amazed at how similar the variations in our hair are. I do have a robe just like that, that same gray.
I would love some quiet – it’s been filled with noise and commotion here.
@KSL, I will love to see your hair at some point:).
And I’ll send your some quiet, right now.
Sitting in the closet. Sad but safely practical. I used to put my head in the cupboard under the stairs and scream very loudly. Oddly enough, in later years I had no trouble at all in the classroom with 30 plus children all busily involved in their work. But my drive home was beautifully silent as I travelled the moor road by myself. Peace has revealed that I probably have mild tinnitus. Swings, roundabouts…
@nohatnogloves, “Sad but safely practical.” Somehow that feels like a phrase rooted in the experience of an entire generation of women.
I am sorry you may have tinnitus but I’m glad it’s mild. The irony of quiet revealing an affliction of the ear, oh life, you twerp.
First, your braid is gorgeous! Second, sitting in the closet is something I did often as a child. It was my safe place, my sad place, my place I went when I felt wronged. I was a very anxious child who grew up to be a very anxious adult, but I no longer sit in the closet. I do appreciate and need quiet time. When my children were young, I were stay up after they went to bed so I could just sit and think my own thoughts. Now walks in the woods and being with nature feel very calming and healing.
@Jane, Makes me want to give little Jane a big hug:). I am very glad you’ve found the trees. xox.
A new bathrobe! Raindrops! Winning a basket! Sharing! All things that speak joy to my heart. Thank you for sharing.
I started a little project in December, where twice a day I just pick someone I see, anyone, and spend a few seconds wishing them a happy life. The practice has done wonders for my state of mind, and I highly recommend it to everyone.
@Mardel, My pleasure. And what a wonderful and original project. I will try it this week. xox.
Mardel: I love the idea the idea off happy life wishing . I shall give it a try!
@Mary, Me too!
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