In essence, I crave it. I long for it. I yearn for the days of my childhood when I would have a question, or merely a thought, and I could hold it in my being for hours, uninterrupted. Remember those days? Hmmm…I wonder if my dog can read my mind, or if she could save me if something was wrong, like Lassie…surely she can read my mind or tell when I need help. I know. I’ll pretend I’m dead and lie on the lawn and see what happens (I know…it was mean! But I was a dramatic one)…[I go do it]…She finds me. She is distressed. Wow she is licking my face and howling and sitting on my belly! Trying to get someone to come, or to wake me up! She tries to lift my arms with her little nose. She is so worried. She loves me! She’s badass and wants to save me! I wake up, I hug her, and kiss her, she runs around in joyous circles and I too am SO happy (and giddy that she would totally save me just like Lassie)… and we fall asleep together on the lawn, the sun warming our skin and fur, and the breeze providing us with just enough cool kisses.
All this without me saying a word. Without her saying a word (to me at least). And we have proven that soul-beings connect no matter what the species, that we are both loved beyond our own understanding, and that we will never, ever be alone in this world.
Those are the gifts that I remember of silence.
When I was in my 20s and danced with silence, I sometimes used to get anxious and have panic attacks…but then again that was also when I moved in with my parents to save money for the summer. My therapist pointed out that I was spending more on sessions with her than I would on rent, and that I could love my parents without ever wanting to live with them. Ever. Thank you, therapist. You saved me so much money with so few visits that I can’t even remember your name. Thank you.
What is YOUR relationship to silence? Lemme know so we can get clear about this one for ourselves.
(PS: This question was posed by one of my favorite mentors, Danielle LaPorte, on her Burning Questions page. Dig it.)