Go placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence. Max Ehrmann

I've been struggling with my desire to live a minimalist life while fulfilling my role as wife and mother in an acquisitive family. They don't understand my desires, my need for silence, for solitude, for empty space.

I want to see the outlines of my home, the counter space empty, the uncurtained window, the texture of a wall without pictures on it.

I wish to "declutter" our words and voices, to remain silent with my thoughts, to only speak when necessary.

I long for my own room, away from everyone, to retreat to for an hour a day, or to sleep in at night, in darkness and without manmade sounds, with windows open to the night and weather and sounds of nature.

A room of my own, as Virginia Woolf said.

My family doesn't understand my need for solitude, empty space, silence; but they do understand that I must exercise in order to be healthy.

So, I walk. Alone, ranging far and wide from home, in silence and in peace.

Each quiet place I see in nature, I keep in my heart and hold with me for the remainder of the day.

Not a room, but a walk, of my own.