Every morning of my childhood, I would wake up to the same scene. My dad, an early riser, would be sitting at our kitchen table with a cup of coffee (black, piping hot). The room would be smoky because this was the 80s and people still smoked back then. An ashtray would be at the ready, and the wisps of smoke would filter through the early morning light giving the world a smokescreen filter, the acrid smell melding with the sharp bite of coffee, a scent singular to my childhood and nostalgic in a way that only children of the 80s can understand. He had an old Blackwatch flannel robe, worn threadbare at the elbows, which was his morning attire, every single day until he wore it out and had to replace it with the exact same robe, exact same plaid.
My dad is nothing if not routine, still to this day.
But above all else, the one consistency that punctuated my childhood and still influences my life today is the still silence. Every morning my dad would sit in the complete and utter stillness of silence. Every. Single. Day. No tv. No radio. This was long before cell phones or iPads. He would simply sit in complete stillness, surrounded by complete silence. Sometimes for an hour or two until the rest of us managed to get ourselves out of bed.
I never once asked him what he thought about during those quiet mornings. Somehow, even as a young girl, I sensed that to do so would be an intrusion on something very private and raw, a space that was his and his alone. However, I’m certain that there was a lot of coffee consumed, cigarettes smoked, and world problems solved (in his head) in those quiet hours.
That stillness, though, that solitude and silence, is something my heart doesn’t understand yet truly craves. I think all of our souls crave it but this loud and non-stop modern world leaves us lost, unsure of how to find stillness, forgetting the value of silence. Instead, we’ve exchanged the two unfashionable things for constant connectivity and non-stop stimulation, convincing ourselves that what we lost is all in the name of progress and importance.
But I’m not so sure it is.
If I had to choose one adjective to describe my dad, it would be peaceful. His very presence is pervaded with peace and calm. He’s a quiet man of few words, a strong presence that belies his tender heart. But his being is calm.
Y’all, I think this calmness and peace comes from the silence, something he still practices. The time he spends in quiet is his therapy and his meditation or prayer or whatever you call it. This time is as essential to his being as air. It is part of him, like the blood rushing through his veins.
He is calm because he practices it daily, not because it is who he is, but because it’s what he does.
Now I’ve been feeling a little disheveled lately. The holiday season is nearly upon us, but it’s more than just that. This year with three kids in three different schools and multiple different businesses and jobs, there’s just been a lot going on and it’s been hard to catch my breath. I’m constantly connected. My job is social media. I’m always on my phone or the computer. And there’s just been no space for silence or stillness in my life because of all of this outside noise and interference.
But I don’t think our souls were created for this noise, this constantness. I think our souls thrive in the quiet spaces, in the in-between stillness. This quiet allows us to reset. It centers us and allows us to settle. So why is it so hard? Why do we fight it?
I’m no expert, but I know I fight it because it’s freaking scary to let my thoughts run unchecked and my feelings have free reign with no distractions. I fight it because I’ve conditioned myself to believe that busy=important and I desperately want to be important (Enneagram #3 here). I fight it because when I try, I honestly don’t know what to do with my hands; they’re way too accustomed to holding and scrolling to sit still with nothing in them.
Here’s where I am, though. I think the main reason it’s so hard for me is because I NEED it desperately. I know I need it just like I know I need to work out more and eat less charcuterie and more salads. And so, because I know I need it, I’m forcing myself to do it. Just like my dad did, minus the cigarette smoke. And honestly, I can’t think of a better time to start this little silence experiment than right now, when the world (and my living room) is alight with twinkle lights and Christmas everywhere. I’m proud to say that I’m up to 10 minutes.
(Don’t judge, it’s harder than you think).
Silence and stillness aren’t natural to me. At least not yet. But I will say that I do feel peace in those moments. Stillness has a way of invading even your breath, taking over your soul. Maybe it’s the early morning hour or the twinkle lights, but I feel God near in those moments. Am I actively praying, no, not necessarily. I’m just letting thoughts come and go, acknowledging them, letting them drift away. But I’m still closer to God in these moments than any other time of the day, I know it.
So I’m challenging you, friends, to try it. Even if it’s just five minutes a day, give in to the stillness. Embrace the silence. Find that calm. Do what you can to invite it into your life. Will you immediately become at one with peace like a monk? No. Probably not. But you might find a tiny sliver of peace that can hopefully grow a bit more each day. Which can only be a good thing, right?
Just don’t take up smoking when you do it. That s*** stinks.
Muffin Tin Meatball Sandwiches
These little muffin tin meatball sandwiches are maybe the most fun and most unanimous Dawson-child approved recipe I’ve ever shared. And that’s saying something because I also happen to have homemade PopTarts in my recipe stash. Meatball subs have long been one of my go-to Toolbox recipes for busy nights. We always have a giant bag of frozen Costco Meatballs and a stash of frozen buns in our freezer just in case and pasta sauce is a pantry staple we never go without. So this simple recipe requires no extra shopping or grocery runs.
But, unlike regular old meatball subs, these muffin tin meatball sandwiches utilize one of the best kitchen staples I have–the muffin tin. Truth be told, the idea for using the muffin tin for this type of recipe wasn’t my own; it came from the Delish Cookbook, where they shared an awesome muffin tin burger recipe that my kids love. That one requires more work even than this, though, and we’re bigger meatball sub fans than burgers so I knew I had to adapt it.
The novelty of eating a sub from a muffin tin is what makes this such a fun and kid-friendly recipe. Pair it with a nice green salad and you’ve got a fully balanced meal you can feel good about serving your little ones.
A few words of caution–definitely use the pasta sauce for dipping. In order not to get soggy muffins, you have to use such a scant amount of sauce in the actual muffin themselves they can border on dry if you don’t. But once you dip them, you have a meatball sub you can eat with one hand, which everyone loves.
Definitely, a recipe you can use for days when you needed extra silence or maybe you just want to send the kids to bed early so you have a few to yourself. Either way, this is a family fun recipe every mom should have in their toolbox.
Peace, love, and silence,
Meg
Muffin Tin Meatball Sandwiches
Ingredients
- 6 hamburger buns
- 18 frozen meatballs (any kind)
- 1/3 cup pasta sauce (plus more for dipping)
- 1 cup mozzarella cheese
Directions
- Step 1 Preheat oven to 350 and spray muffin tin with cooking spray
- Step 2 Heat meatballs in microwave until halfway cooked (for mine that meant 5 minutes at 50% power)
- Step 3 Cut 6 meatballs in half, leaving the rest intact
- Step 4 Place all meatballs in a medium size bowl and combine with 1/3 cup of sauce until coated.
- Step 5 Using a rolling pin, flatten each side of the buns until 1/4 inch
- Step 6 Fold carefully into muffin tins, making sure not to break or tear the bottoms.
- Step 7 Spoon 1 full and 1/2 meatball into each bun, top with a tablespoon of cheese on each
- Step 8 Bake for 10 minutes at 350 or until cheese is melted and meatballs are completely cooked through.
- Step 9 Serve with 1/2 cup warmed pasta sauce for dipping.
- Step 10 Enjoy!
Welcome to BurntToast! My name is Meaghan, and this is my safe space, a place where we can share stories, share recipes and share life. It’s my dream that you can come here, kick your shoes off and pour yourself a glass of wine while you read, laugh, and maybe even hop into the kitchen. This is my heart, for all of you to see. And ALL are welcome here.