5 Minutes Peace

I remember this time of year, about ten or twelve years ago.  I was living in Cambridge and raising two young children on my own.  I had spent most of the day  Christmas shopping in a busy, packed city and it was absolute hell.  Every shop had Christmas music blaring, and every checkout drawer opening and closing with no sign of let up.  The streets were packed, the car parks full and driving home was bumper to bumper as the lights went from red to green and back to red again whilst you inched forward. Smartphones were a thing of the future but we still had noise and distraction rammed down our throat at every waking moment.  As I was nearing home I put on a radio channel that was playing classical music.  On came a piece called Due Tramonti by Einaudi. As I pulled into the drive I clearly remember resting my head on the car seat, closing my eyes and I listened to the whole piece before rejoining the world.  It was absolute heaven for a few minutes and had such an impact on me I can still recall it clearly to this day. And whenever I hear that piece now I am reminded of a few minutes blissful rest and reboot in the middle of such a busy time.

I was reminded of that moment when I read a piece sent to me by a friend which is included below. We are plugged in so much of the time, isn’t it grand to just enjoy silence?  Or is that something you struggle with?

The piece is written by Enid Instone-Brewer.  And all credit is given to her for the name of this blog Norq from Ork.  A couple of years ago I was talking of writing a blog and people on my FB were banding name ideas around.  Notes from a Quoyloony was one as I live in a place called Quoyloo.  However Enid suggested Norq from Ork and it received the most likes.  It also means I can never divorce Orkney Beef as I need his surname. 😉

Enjoy a few minutes silence with Enid’s thoughts and thank you to Enid for her contribution.

Sitting at a cafe table outside in one of those city streets that has become a local hub: three hairdressers and a barber, cafe, deli, two convenience stores, charity shops, greengrocer. I sit down with coffee and scrumptious caramel tiffin and reach for my phone. Why? I’ll either tell Facebook where I am, or play a game.


Put it away.


Two young women with hair dyed streaky blue, chatting; older couple dressed a bit artsy boho, scowling; tall rangy middle-man with long pony tail, striding; thin blond woman walking a thin blond dog. My husband seems to need constant mental input, like Number 5 in Short Circuit. He enters the kitchen, on goes the radio. Cycle to work, headphones. Fair enough, but late at night I sometimes query the need for noise. But what about my tendency to get the phone out to play match the wotsits; that’s just another type of mental noise. So sitting at the table and observing passers by, I start composing these thoughts in my head. Isn’t that just more noise? Well, maybe not. For a change I was using my thoughts intentionally instead of letting them be led by events or squandered in trivia. Getting up and taking my crocks inside I then walked past all the businesses on one side and back up the other side, then returned to the hospital where the old dad was taken two days ago. But on a handy wall I sat down to capture these thoughts in case they resonate with anyone else.


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