The bird hide

The power of the quiet observant

I find my peace in the bird hide. I watch, I observe, while not being seen. I love doing this during my hikes. Then I realized I also tend to do this in my social life. And it is not always appreciated. To be quiet is often to be misunderstood.

Introverted, shy or a stoic?

Let’s start off by saying that I don’t prefer to live under any labels. Humans love to put themselves and others in boxes in order to understand themselves and each other. To understand their position in a group, in society.

Since I was a little girl, people pointed out my quietness. My cheeks flushed and I felt like a huge spotlight was put on my bright red face. I was labeled as a shy girl, later an introvert. Just like my mother, we share the same tendency to be quiet in the outside world. My father, on the other hand, was a very extroverted man. He loved being around people and in the spotlight. Before he died in 1999, I tended to share more of his characteristics. I was chatty, played wildly with kids until I got asthma attacks, and I was a little clownlike, like him.

Ever since he passed away, something seemed to flip a switch inside of me. I turned completely inward and I stayed there. Safe in my own shell. Falling in love with my solitude. Being content with my own company. If we talk introvert/extrovert, I’d say I’m rather ‘ambivert’. Because I’m definitely a hybrid. It depends on where I am, it depends on the energy. I believe that goes for most quiet people. Sometimes it’s not easy to withstand a very big wave of energy from loud people. It can take a lot of our own energy.

And a stoic? That’s one I’ve been hearing more often lately. I know that’s because not everybody can read me that quickly. Which makes people suspicious and doubtful, and even judging. I come off as calm and collected, and as much as I love stoicism as a philosophical movement, I’m not quite sure that I am a real stoic.

What it means to be a quiet person

In some cases, we can tie our quietness to insecurity and anxiety. But I don’t want to associate with those labels anymore. But… being quiet does not always equal hiding. Being quiet does not always equal social anxiety. Being quiet does not always equal autism. I emphasize this because I see it going around a lot on the internet: the self-diagnosing, introvert vs extrovert, etc.

I like to describe the non-anxious, natural quiet people as ‘rustig’. It’s a Dutch word that would translate to calm/tranquil. It doesn’t have a negative association. It just is.

So what does it mean? It can mean everything and nothing at the same time. For me, it’s simply being an observer. It’s ‘simply’ being sensitive to other people’s energies. I perfer to listen and structure my thoughts. It can be very loud up there, you know? Being quiet is wonderful, because what would this world be like if it were full of loud people? I think we already have enough of them.

The writer’s voice

Quiet people are often big thinkers, and so are writers. There is so much going on in our heads that writing helps to ease, to structure. If you are a writer, I wonder… do you fit the quiet person-trope? Are your words the replacement of your voice? And by that I mean, your actual vocals? Or are your words an extension of your voice?

I have been ruminating about that a lot. I used to go through life saying that my words are my voice. And that is the truth for a very big part. But in my case, I have also been hiding behind my words on paper and screen. Diminishing the power of my vocals. Speaking softer and softer, crawling to the back and hissing at the spotlights like a cornered cat. Feeling threatened by the eyes that pierce through my skin and set it on fire. There have been times I could handle it better, there have been situations where I wanted that spotlight. Like I said before, it all depends on the energy.

When your vocals become mute for whatever reason and the only way you can express yourself is through writing, that is really beautiful. I prefer writing because it gives me more time to think and give my story structure. Just me and my pen. Or laptop.

But when I started to notice that I softened my voice to make myself smaller and invisible, I knew that had to change. Because I do have a loud and strong voice. I can sing, but I never pushed it through due to my stage fright. I have been invited for spoken word, and I declined even though I know my voice can be as loud and strong as it can be soothing and expressive as well.

In time, I learned that a quiet person can also be confident and talkative. I think the most important thing about this is that we can do this without any force. Pure authenticity. Pure flow.

Calm, but heard!

At this point, I want to challenge myself, and it is uncomfortable. But how far will the conformist come in life?
So I thought, let’s commit to this little mission to use my vocals.

Now and then I grow my voice louder, but:

I will never scream to deaf ears,
I will never perform to blind eyes.

I am a shapeshifter, but that doesn’t mean I will change my core self.
I am the quiet observant who likes to watch the birds in silence.

But once in a while, when it is for my own good, I will step out of the hide and sing. Sing with the birds.

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Stay sweet,

-Lisa Marie, Honeyrealms

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Every week I share a poem, whether she’s new ‘n fresh or a precious oldie.
Through my poetry, I want to invite you to my honeyrealms. Realms beyond what we see, beyond the veil. Realms that feel like home, or awaken a sense of wonder, longing, and belonging.