A weekly dose of dauntlessly dealt reality from the What It Is Wednesday Blog Carnival

There are so many kinds of quiet. There’s inner quiet that many equate with calmness and peace. There’s the kind that’s an absence of noise. A kind of quiet I identified with in my youth I called the primal silence before the scream–a particularly ripe emptiness that finds no explanation or descriptor, yet needs release. Stillness–a space without movement, literal or figurative–can be considered “quiet.” The silence that comes after disquieting uproar is a disturbing quiet.

I suppose it’s the latter that I feel, now. I’ve blogged in the past about becoming etherically upsot when death is coming–the cradling is what Angrboða called it. I didn’t experience it that same way with the two deaths in our family last week. More, the cloak of general despair and helplessness, sadness for my close family members was heavy. It’s all punctuated by the aftermath of Hurricane Matthew, loss, which is all around me.

Death prolonged is a horrific thing, though unexpected and sudden death brings no comfort. It’s all hard, and taxing. It brings a fury of events, thoughts, feelings, people, who aren’t the norm. Natural, yes, but not the norm. Death is the deepest upheaval.

When that tempest dies down, the quiet that’s left is foreign and uncomfortable. Driving it is shame with the unreasonable expectation that the mere lack of high drama should be enough to enjoy quiet.

It’s not.

I’m particularly tentative about respecting the quiet that comes after life-changing events, because I too easily sync into crisis. I can’t describe the sublime comfort of everything going wrong, the supportive trajectory of assured collision. I grew up on it. I know it, and that’s a dangerous thing.

This week I’m feeling the quiet in all its subtle nuances. I remember the losses. I honor the upheaval. I grieve for the grieving. I love.

Outside, even the clear blue sky and beaming sunlight is awkward after the days of swollen gray and torrential wind and rain.

It’s a time of collecting, sifting, listening, waiting.

If You Want to Be Real on your blog, visit the inaugural page —https://www.soulintentarts.com/what-it-is-wednesday/  and follow the instructions there to share your reality with the world! Read other blogs in the carnival, below: