If I'm quiet...

I was laying in bed reading, tonight, when I came across this line in my book. It made me think. I couldn't sleep, so I sketched about what the sentence made me feel... but that didn't see to help either. I keep thinking about what this proclaimation means to me, and my life:

"If I'm quiet, all will pass me by"

Sometimes I wonder if there is something to this theory. All of us know people who don't speak up, don't volunteer, don't stick their necks out and more often than not, that experience passes them by without a glace or a handshake.

I think I would be considered a pretty outspoken person with friends, loved ones, people I trust. I often feel there are correct times to be silent, to let things pass me by, but there are other times when I feel that my speaking out, talking, saying something positive, just being "unquiet" as it were, will make a difference in my life and legacy. If I sit idly by, and don't mention to Josh that I think the fact that he's slightly dancing while he cooks is adorable, that moment will go by and will have less meaning than it did before me sharing. If I see friends and don't explain to them how good it is for my soul to see them, the visit takes on less value. If I don't say "mom and dad I love you" while I have the chance, it's passed without a notice. If I'm quiet, it passes by.

There are times when I feel the opposite, that if I'm loud all will pass me by. These are the moments when you're in a beautiful mountain pass, all you can hear are leaves rustling, water dribbling, and yourself breathing. The times when you look up and realize a bald eagle is roosting above your canoe. Those are the times of serene silence, which cannot and will not be broken by simple human words which, in comparison to the grandness of the beauty around you, will be lost and insignificant. Or times of love, when your breath is sucked from your lungs and saying anything would ruin not only the silence but the feelings and the moment you're in.

My grandmother was constantly talking. Telling stories, sharing memories, sharing facts, weaving tales. About a picnic in a park when she was 8, about her and grandpa's first date, about the bullies, the first jobs, raising my mom and aunt, her crowded married home. I wonder, now, if she was trying to get it all in before she left us. If she was thinking... "If I'm quiet, no one will remember me. It will all pass by without notice". If she had faith that if she just kept talking, at some point someone would listen, and those stories would be a legacy to her family and the world. Luckily, someone did listen, and that person was me. She was not quiet, and thank god, none of that passed me by, because those stories have become the threads with which I weave my family history and thus, my own experiences.

I certainly do not want life, or my loved ones, to pass me by. Every moment is one I want to suck in, keep in my heart, remember forever as impossible as that is. The good and the bad- store it- keep it- and use it to create the person you are, and the person you will be. Use it to change someone elses being, for the better hopefully. I won't let it pass me by.