Seeking to restore my sanity and refocus my thoughts towards writing, I attempt to find a quiet place to write at my local library.
Let me just start by saying I love libraries, anywhere I can go to be surrounded by books is my happy place. Add to that the price being right (I’m not one of those who accumulate fines – I’ve heard tale of such animals, but can’t comprehend this kind of wild living), and I feel like libraries get me.
Until recently, when I started going to my library at lunchtime. As I type this, the noise level of the library more closely resembles a public swimming pool than the quiet haven of my youth.
While attempting to restore my inner calm, I find each and every bit of noise to be that much more upsetting. From the guy on the phone, having a conversation at outside-voice levels to the woman in the chair beside me, reading her newspaper out loud.
Today I took charge of my own quest for peace and quiet. Cheri Gregory describes this attention to sensitivity as “carrying your own jam jar.” I can’t expect others to give me what I need, I must take steps to provide for myself. So today I sit in the library, typing these words, mostly* annoyance free thanks to earbuds and a classical music channel on Pandora.
*Of course there are those times where the music dips low and I can here the roar of the party on the floor below celebrating how “Libraries Rock!” I’m only distracted for a moment until the music builds to once again.