Ever wring out a washcloth and you know it’s still got water in it, but you can’t get any more out? That is how my life feels right now. It’s very very very full. I have finally acknowledged that I have some significant longstanding anxiety issues. And since I’m taking steps to mitigate some of the anxiety, I feel like I am content with life being that full. But. There are some times where I seriously wish for silence.
Silence is something that is easily taken for granted, because it’s one of those “void” things. Oddly enough, it’s like a white noise. You don’t really notice until it’s gone. Of course there’s different kinds of silence, like the silence that descends when your child has gone hunting in the lunch cupboard when you’re not looking. And the silence of the power going out. And the silence of the air just before a storm hits in full force. And the silence of a calm moment with no distractions or obligations.
That last silence is something I look for. It’s rare.
Sometimes, in a wildly contradictory sense, I find it when loud music is playing. (AC/DC anyone?)
Sometimes I find it when we squeeze in 5 minutes for a book before school, and the timer’s counting down so I don’t have to keep track. (Thank you, whoever made timers.)
Sometimes I find it when I’m doing a task that’s methodical, like chopping carrots, or watering plants, or scrubbing a toilet (Ok, the last one’s a bit of a stretch… but…).
Sometimes I find it when I’m laying down for a nap (which, if it weren’t for the bliss of a restful sleep, would be quite annoying, because you really only have it for a second before you’re out and drooling).
Sometimes, I find it when there’s nothing left to do but laugh. (For instance, when Littlest tried to tell me that it was Biggest’s fault and Biggest wasn’t home.)
And sometimes I find it when I can’t laugh, but my mind chuckles anyway (like when I told Biggest to watch where he was going and he refused and rode straight into a bush. Freaking hilarious but he would have been devastated if I’d so much as chuckled.).
And, without a single doubt, I find it every single time I run. (It’s doubly delightful if I run long enough to get tomato face. Tomato face means you did a great job.)
Truth be told, I think that a soul finds silence when it finds something to delight in.
And with that, I have to go to sleep. Silence is waiting, and with that little piece, I can get up tomorrow to start it all again.