Shhhhh…
I’ve been noticing a lot lately that I have no silence in my life. We live on a busy street, and even with the windows closed, there is always the high-low whoosh of passing cars and trucks. It dips off at night, but never quite completely. And when I can’t hear cars, there are fans blowing. From far away, they are a waterfall. Up close, an airplane. I tolerate them because the heat is worse than the noise, but not by much.
No matter where I go lately, there is no single place without human noises to be constantly heard. I thought I had found a place of quite, out in the mountains where I take my daughter for day care each day. And it IS quieter, but not silent. There’s the sound of an airplane above, and a neighbor’s shower. Or, if you listen very carefully, the soft breathing of the freeway far below. You could almost mistake it for the wind through the trees.
Still, I relish that first five or six seconds as I step out of my car and enjoy the relative peace that is almost tactile.
I found myself doing the same thing at a pool party the other day. By holding my breath and diving near the bottom of the pool, the world above was muffled to near silence. So close. If only I could stay there longer. Once, when I was younger, I was lulled by that silence and did stay. And the peace was like a warm blanket on a cold night. I snuggled into it, not wanting to acknowledge anything outside that cottony comfort. The next thing I knew, my best friend was slapping my cheek and urgently commanding me to wake up. He had pulled me off the bottom of the pool where I had gone into blissful convulsions.
I passed very near death that day, but it wasn’t frightening to me at all. In fact, it was wonderful. I long for that perfect quiet again. I want to stand in a place without cars and planes and cell phones; without a single human creation to buzz or whirr or click. I want to hold my breath and listen to the whispering poetry of the trees. I know they have so much to teach me, if I can only be quiet long enough. (more…)