In my head, it’s really loud. There are lots of thoughts running around, bumping into each other, demanding my attention. Most days it’s chaos in there. And it’s exhausting. And most days what I do to combat them, to give myself a break from their screams, I drown myself in some other noise. Sometimes it’s a show or movie that takes me away for a few hours. Other times it’s music that envelopes every piece of me as I dive into it. And even other times when shows or music aren’t there, I let my mind wander into mythical lands of daydreams, pushing away the reality of my thoughts. I so feverishly work to distract myself, to pull myself out of the present, out of my head and into something more easily digestible. And in all that effort, you know what I realized? It’s far more exhausting attempting to run away.

So today I let myself sit, for once, in silence. I stared at my window (not out it since the curtain was drawn, which is really for the better. All the sights outside would have inevitably been just another distraction). All I could see is the rays of sunlight seeping through the blinds, falling onto the sheer white curtain.

As I did this, I was certain that a wave of thoughts, anxious, irritating, bothersome thoughts, would come rolling over me. As if I was a empty cup tossed into the ocean, simply awaiting to be overwhelmed by the water that would fill me. But to my surprise, no water came in, no thoughts rushed over me. Now I wouldn’t say my mind was blank, as it never truly is, but I might characterize it as clear. Yes, that’s what it was. I was still that cup tossed in the ocean, but instead, I was simply floating on top calm, clear waters. And that’s when I heard it…

The sound of silence.

I am still surprised at how loud it was. Silence. And even more surprised at how calm it was. I mingled with it for a moment. Then slowly, like the single notes playing to begin a new song, the sounds of life began to meet my ears. I could hear the sound of my heartbeat, soft and repetitive. Then the sound of my bedding as I shifted my arms over the blankets. It was as if I could hear the warmth and the comfort. Then more sounds joined me. The distant sounds of my sister next door, my mother on the other side of the house, the cars on far away streets. All tiptoeing in slowly and softly as if they too wanted to maintain my quiet peace.

I liked it. The sound of silence. I liked how easily it came to me. I liked how quickly it became a door keeper to the other sounds, slowly moving aside as it let new sounds in. It was warm and peaceful, the sound of silence. And most of all, it was full. It filled all the areas of my mind completely, if only for that moment.

You know something else I realized? It’s always there, that sound. It’s always available for us to go and sit in. Even in the most shockingly loud and utterly distracting situations, it’s there beckoning us. All we have to do is be willing to stop running, stop distracting, sit with our eyes focused on nothing in particular and listen for the sound of silence.

K.J. 1/23/2022