Silence

I've been thinking about silence a lot lately. I used to be surrounded by silence. I've been a quiet person for a long time. I was a loud child and learned quickly that the people around me did not like it. So, I stopped talking. High school was rough. I went to a private school, and the people there were not like me. I was angry then, really angry. I didn't say much because when I did I was ridiculed. By the time I got to college, I was a master of silence. I hardly ever spoke. It helped that I had a roommate who talked constantly and probably wouldn't have let me get a word in even if I tried. There were very few people I trusted. I talked to them, but mostly they talked. I've always been drawn to people who love to talk. My silence made some people uncomfortable, but I was also a really good listener.

I don't regret the silence. It made me a good observer, which is key in both writing and theatre. I've started to talk more. Having kids makes it impossible to be silent, and I think it's been good for me. They shoved me out of my comfort zone. Silence is too easy. It made me feel invisible. I started to actually believe it for a while. No one notices you when you're silent. Having the kids made me realize that I am a person who deserves to be heard. I'm starting to feel the way I did as a child. Free to be myself and talk and laugh and be honest about my thoughts and feelings. It is difficult, but I'm finding freedom is far better than silence.

Now silence means something else to me. The rare moment of silence is a gift, a chance to relax and breathe deep. The change was apparent to me yesterday. I was in the denist's office, waiting for the nurse to get everything set up. I was alone, looking out the window at the river, and the only sound was soft music playing in the background. I took a deep breath and felt more relaxed than I have in a long time. I spend my days with my kids. I work with kids. There is no silence in my life except for the nights, when I'm not able to enjoy it because I'm trying to force myself to sleep. I couldn't help but smile at my enjoyment of that moment of silence at the dentist, but I'll take it where I can get it.