We need quiet time to examine our lives openly and honestly -

“We need quiet time to examine our lives openly and honestly — spending quiet time alone gives your mind an opportunity to renew itself and create order.” — so wrote Susan L. Taylor, the esteemed editor, writer, and visionary whose words pulse with the quiet wisdom of self-knowledge. Her message, born not from theory but from deep living, carries the ancient echo of sages and poets who have long taught that silence is the workshop of the soul. In her quote, she calls upon each of us to pause amidst the noise of the world and listen — not to others, not to the clamor of ambition, but to the whisper of our own hearts.

In her years as editor-in-chief of Essence magazine, Taylor became a voice for reflection, empowerment, and spiritual grounding. Her words emerged from a life spent observing the tireless motion of modern living — a life where people chase success and recognition, yet rarely stop to ask, “What am I truly becoming?” She saw how easily the mind, unguarded and overstimulated, becomes cluttered with confusion, resentment, and doubt. And so she wrote, urging her readers to claim moments of quiet time, not as luxury, but as necessity. In solitude, she teaches, the mind renews itself, the heart realigns, and one’s life finds order again.

To examine one’s life openly and honestly is no small task. It requires courage — the courage to turn inward, to face the truths we hide even from ourselves. The ancients knew this well. The philosopher Socrates declared that “the unexamined life is not worth living,” and in that declaration lies the same essence that Taylor expresses. To live without reflection is to drift, unanchored, through the waters of existence. But to take time in silence — to be still and look clearly at one’s actions, motives, and desires — is to reclaim the helm of one’s own soul. Quiet is not absence; it is presence — the presence of truth revealed without disguise.

When the great Nelson Mandela sat for twenty-seven years in confinement, he, too, learned the redemptive power of quiet. In his long solitude, he did not allow bitterness to devour him. Instead, he turned inward, reflecting upon his past, refining his purpose, and emerging not broken, but renewed — a man of vision and peace. His cell became not a prison, but a monastery of transformation. Taylor’s words speak of this same sacred principle: that silence, when embraced with openness, can heal, clarify, and strengthen. For in quietness, the soul begins to hear its own wisdom again.

There is also a creative fire hidden in silence. Taylor speaks of how the mind “creates order” when it is still — for in rest, the mind rearranges, restores, and generates. Many of the world’s greatest discoveries and works of art were born not in chaos, but in solitude. Isaac Newton conceived his laws of motion in isolation; Beethoven, deaf and withdrawn, composed symphonies that echoed the voice of eternity. Silence, far from being empty, is the soil from which all creation grows. The noisy mind cannot build; only the quiet mind can.

And yet, in our modern age, quiet is rare. We live surrounded by constant sound — the ceaseless hum of machines, the chatter of voices, the flood of information. We fear silence because it demands honesty. But Susan Taylor urges us to reclaim it — to sit, even for a few moments each day, alone with our thoughts. In doing so, we do not withdraw from the world; we prepare ourselves to return to it with greater strength, clarity, and compassion. For renewal begins not in action, but in rest, and order is born from stillness, not speed.

Lesson: Take time each day to step away from the noise. Find a corner of stillness — perhaps in the early morning, perhaps beneath the night sky — and listen to the voice within. Let your mind wander, but gently bring it back to truth. Reflect on your choices, your hopes, your wounds. Do not flee from discomfort; it is the doorway to understanding. In that quiet, allow your thoughts to settle like dust after a storm, until you can once again see clearly the shape of your life.

Thus, Susan L. Taylor’s wisdom shines as both comfort and command: “We need quiet time to examine our lives openly and honestly.” It is in stillness that we heal, in silence that we learn, and in solitude that we grow whole. The world demands much of us — but our souls demand this one thing above all: the courage to be alone, to listen, and to be renewed. For from the well of quiet comes clarity, and from clarity, the strength to live beautifully once more.