Comfortable in Silence

Today I sat in total silence.

I had come upstairs to fix my glasses (you know that little screw that just keeps popping out so that you have to halt everything within a 6 foot radius and get on your hands and knees to find (sometimes with the assistance of a complete stranger if you happen to be in public)) and I fumbled up the job, so I was left with the lenses in one hand and the part that wraps around your ear in the other.

I also realized I’d left my phone downstairs.

I wouldn’t say I’m addicted to my phone – but that’s only because I am in denial.  I look at my phone probably a total of 100 times a day, and I realize that in comparison to others, that is probably not very often.  But the sad thing is, I’m usually looking at it when there has been no activity on it whatsoever.  No new texts, no posts, no chimes going off to let me know a loved one has thought of me.  Nope.  It’s usually me just pretending to check the weather but really hoping I have a missed call.

I don’t like silence anymore.  At one point in my life, I did.  At least, I think I did.  So many times when I cast my line back to my past and start to reel in whatever I caught, it is usually filled with glitter and spice and everything nice.  Life was PERFECT; that’s the only way I remember it because it HAD to be because everything right now is such a disaster (dramatic reading of my thoughts).

So I sat there and quickly came to the realization that I had nothing to distract me from my own thoughts.  I didn’t have a pen in my hand, or a phone to try to numb my mind.  I didn’t have a computer in reach and I couldn’t even see (see above Glasses Situation.)

And so I sat.  And I heard rain.  Dropping on the roof of the attic.  And I thought about a time when I was camping in the deep woods, and I was laying in a tent all alone and it was raining.  And I remember holding my flashlight and writing in a brown journal with brown-tinted papers and a binding made out of thick twine.

And I thought of another time when I was staring up at the stars in the back bed of my sister’s truck, holding hands with my best friend as the soft, warm air of summer rushed over us.  And it truly was PERFECT.

And I thought about the fact that I used to meditate and I used to practice yoga and I used to shower daily and I used to take walks in the woods and I used to get up early just to see the sunrise.  I used to listen to beautiful music and feel deeply and inhale sweet air into the bottom of my lungs and my body and my mind was hard and strong and I was CENTERED.

Was I?  It really does seem like I was.  Or do I just remember it that way?  Or do I just wish it was that way?

And then I shook my head out of my fairy-tale world and brought myself back to reality, 40 lbs overweight, smoking cigarettes through chronic bronchitis and heart problems.  Overeating, oversleeping, thinking of death and wondering how it will feel to lie in the cold, dark earth of my grave.


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