Sometimes I forget how much I love early mornings. I've always been a bit of a morning person, but my schedule has turned me into a bit of a night owl by necessity. I love the stillness of the morning. The crisp, cool air. The quiet.
Notice I didn't say "Peace".
I've always thought it to be interesting that the words "peace" and "quiet" are often spoke of like one must go with the other. Like unless it's quiet, peace will not come. Like peace is somehow based on the conditions that surround us.
In my life, and in my heart, that has ceased to be true.
In fact, when I'm alone, in the quiet, that is when I tend to be the least at peace. I love the quiet in theory, but the wheels in my head start turning, and the anxiousness starts to set in. I have to start fighting back the lies I tell myself. The biggest lie being that my worrying somehow changes the outcome of things I'm anxious about.
It doesn't.
It's a false sense of security. A false sense of control. While I may have a lot of things on my worry list (like moving, GRE testing, staring down the barrel of a $200,000 student loan) not one ounce of worry is going to help.
Maybe one day I'll find peace in the quiet-- but today I'm wearing headphones.
