On a Sunday at the end of August, I sat alone for an hour in a café at Garden City in Brisbane. Every table around me was full and the place was loud. But for that hour, no one from my family was beside me, and inside I found a quiet of my own. The café was loud. Inside, I was quiet.
I first wrote this down as a few lines in Chinese on my mini-blog. This is the longer English version.
What was the café like?
Busy, and honestly quite noisy. It was Sunday, and Garden City was full of people shopping. The café was full too: parents with their kids, groups of friends catching up, voices rising and falling over each other. It's the kind of place you'd walk past if you wanted peace.
Why can a noisy café feel quiet?
Because none of the noise is for you. The conversations around you belong to other people. You don't have to answer them, follow them or join in. After a few minutes they turn into background sound, a bit like rain on a roof.
Being alone in a crowd is different from being alone in an empty room. Nobody looks twice at one person with a coffee. You are left alone, and you don't feel lonely, because life is still going on all around you.
Why does one hour alone matter?
For this one hour, no one from my family was sitting beside me. It was just me and a coffee.
When you are with people you care about, part of your attention always stays with them. Are they okay, are they bored, what's next? That's normal, and it's a good thing. But it means your own thoughts rarely get your full attention. An hour alone gives that attention back to you.
What did I do with the hour?
I thought, and I let my mind wander. There was a pen and a notepad on the table next to my mug. I've written before about why I still like to find focus with ink and paper, and this hour was a good example of it. Just a coffee and whatever came to mind.
The point wasn't to get anything done. The point was to have space to think at all.
How can you find your own quiet hour?
You don't need a retreat, a cabin or a silent room. Here's what I'd suggest:
- One hour, not a whole day. It is easy to find, and long enough for your mind to settle.
- A place where nobody needs anything from you. A busy café works surprisingly well.
- Something to write with, in case a thought is worth keeping. My everyday pen is a Lamy Safari, but any pen will do.
Then go back to your people, with your own thoughts a little clearer.
Where do you find your quiet hour? I'd like to hear about it. You can reach me through the contact page. If you liked this, my other reflection on why the same culture doesn't make you friends is about a different kind of belonging.
This is a personal reflection. The photo of the pen and notepad is my own; the other images were made locally with Qwen Image 2.1, and AI helped me edit the English.
