Like the colorful plastic eggs strewn across a family member’s lawn yesterday, my mind is never without an assortment of creative ideas that make my eyes sparkle with possibility. As someone passionate about details, I love nothing more than to crack them open and explore what the pursuit (and success) of one or the other might look like on a macro level. It is never merely about a final goal or a lofty vision – it is about the little things, the easy-to-go-unnoticed things, and all the things it would take to bring an idea to life.

After I submitted my manuscript at the end of February, I had a pretty hectic period on the personal front – house projects, travel, and, the usual, laundry and what not – which was wrapped up in early April upon my return from a week-long journey in China with my best friend from high school and her family. Since then, activity has continued to hum along at a fairly clipped pace around here, so the fact that my latest deadlines have been for smaller projects has served me well. All along, bigger ideas have continued to take turns trying to inspire me into action, making me feel like a casting director of sorts – sitting quietly in an empty auditorium with a clipboard and pencil, pondering and rating these “auditions.”

Throughout all of this, I’ve continued my informal study of silence in our electronic gadget and social media-overwhelmed culture. After finishing Alone Together: Why We Expect More from Technology and Less from Each Other, I am now reading In Pursuit of Silence:  Listening for Meaning in a World of Noise. I also attended an Episcopal service in the style of Taize last week with a friend, and will be taking a four-week course he is teaching called Exploring the Idea of Quiet, a study on Proverbs. I have never claimed a specific religion for my spiritual beliefs, but can’t say I am surprised that my quest for a deeper understanding and exploration of my need for quiet is now starting to lead me to more formally sacred spaces.

My deepest practice right now is to enjoy longer, slower exhales – to take my time in that auditorium with all the ideas dancing across the stage beckoning “Pick me! Pick me!” And I say this with a slight chuckle as I ponder the week ahead, which includes a few small house projects, house guests, and two important deadlines. It is hardly a monastic life we lead around here; I am not sitting still in the auditorium as much as I am coming in and out and trying to catch snippets of the performances in between walking the dog, running errands, and taking care of my family. But for the first time in my life, I am letting that be OK instead of trying to pile more “meaningful” work on top of everything.

I know I just wrote about this professional ambling I’ve been enjoying as of late, and there’s a good chance I’ll write about it again. As much as I love encouraging others to pursue their greatest dreams and create their most meaningful lives, I am also feeling compelled to document these quieter needs, and the importance for all of us to honor them. There is so much available to us in life, and so much required of us. Let’s not forget that we also need stillness, and things that are small. The Sequoia trees are mighty, but they all started from a seed, beneath the ground, in a quiet hollow of the earth.