The unassuming nature of the word “quiet” belies its importance in the smaller and larger matters of life.
Used to gear down a small child, describe an uneasy peace between adults or countries, demonstrate a quality of character, or illustrate the strength of a musical or other passage, quiet capably holds down its real estate in the semantic world.
Today, I closed my bedroom door quietly, to support the sleep of an older child who is off tomorrow to the start of the next year at university.
As I pulled the door to, the joy of his arrival, the sadness of his departure, and the giftedness of it all played into the careful maneuvering of the door.
Letting go of the handle, the scene sped forward to quietly closed doors in houses that are less full, and further on to the unbroken quiet of homes where years have emptied the beds of all but the elderly.
Yet quiet also beckons reflection. It conjures memory, pierces the veil of everyday illusion, and offers opportunity to sort and put pieces together—or back together. Quiet is both a universal solvent and adhesive that is a close relative of time and perhaps even soul itself.
Though simple, there is a lot to the word “quiet.”
Shouldn't...but Do 