Making Peace with Silence

[butterflydreaming]

I'm house-sitting, or, rather, some kind folks offered their empty house for a respite. My home is so noisy, but I've become more accustomed than I really understood.

It was better with the music on, but the house still felt silent. Not just quiet. Silent, the way only houses can be. Going home, after all, instead of staying the night as planned seemed like the more comfortable option. But the buses are wicked today. Heading up here from Beltown, they were running an hour late (according to the driver). I got onto an almost empty Express bus, because the one a mere couple of minutes before it was full to bursting. Hm, I see a pattern of giving up that I hadn't noticed til now.

After a few minutes as the bus stop, when it appeared that those also waiting had been waiting for other bus lines for quite a while, I thought about how I keep complaining that I get home with almost no time to do anything except eat and sleep. Here, if I stayed, I could cook a quiche in a nice big kitchen, watch a movie, write for a while... stay up late without feeling like I would be bothering anyone else... have the quiet for thinking time.

The deal was settled because the library is open for another half-hour. It's a really nice library, and it has computer. I didn't bring mine with me. (No taking advantage of the wireless, alas.) I can sate my LJ jones and feel connected.

It's been so long since I've been alone. I've lived in small spaces with divinityof_fire for over 6 years, and with at least on cat for most of that time as well, and with the noisey Siamese for 2. Apartment living, with upstairs neighbors. I'm around noise and people all day. I think the last time I was by myself, on a trip somewhere, was several years ago.

The quiet scared me.

I wonder how I will sleep, tonight. Will I wake up when the first bit of light floats through the windows? Will I oversleep? I've already warned KP. I'll have to bring her a cupcake if I'm late to work.

I can feel myself rushing along over life like the gray water of a flooded stream, a churning tumult that hides everything beneath it. I have forgotten to be aware of the moment. How does this happen?

When a branch falls across the current, when it holds back the flow, it creates a little bit of clarity. I'm sure that I need it. What is in my head, heart, and soul that I haven't been able to see?

I'm not scared anymore. I'm a little bit excited. I'm curious. It's an experiment in being alone for *gasp* over 12 hours.

{grin}

Comments

[amheriksha.livejournal.com]

It's a different feeling, to not have multiple lives living all around you, yet not be aware of you. I always had that weird transition when coming home from the dorms. It almost seemed wrong I couldn't hear movement all around me at night.

But it felt right. Good choice staying. The quiche idea was the best. *grins*

[omnifarious.livejournal.com]

It's been awhile since I lived alone, but I did it for years. It was nice sometimes, but more lonely and frustrating.

I appreciate solitude sometimes, but it seems like it's been hard to come by in recent years. I should learn to drive so I can sometimes just go out in the middle of nowhere. I don't think an empty house would be sufficient for me.

I think I know why. An empty house is filled with signs of humanity and its human inhabitants both current and past. There are messages in every corner if you just know how to read them. I'm sure that weight registers subconsciously.

[lilac-wine.livejournal.com]

It is odd, total silence. I rarely have it. I live with four other people, all but one of whom never seem to be still or quiet. In those rare times when I'm actually alone in my house, I don't quite know what to do and when R is out of town and it's just me and the kids, I'm sort of at loose ends.

But I'm glad you made something positive out of it.

[buhrger]

i had something profound and relevant to say in this comment. sadly, it wandered out of my head. maybe if we all cross our fingers and think silly thoughts, it'll come back!

[tblumens.livejournal.com]

You write beautifully. Thanks for leaving this open to non-friends. I'm in buhrger's flist, so had seen your comments there before. But had never read one of your posts until now.