The Sound of Silence

 I fell into a restless sleep last night, as the wind continued to howl outside, the way it had for the last 48 hours. Suddenly I woke and sat up in bed. What had woken me? And then I realized. 

It was silent, completely silent. I had been woken by the sound of silence. 

As the irony of that idea took hold, I knew I needed to explore the thought and decided to make it the topic of today's blog. 

As I thought about setting up the blog, I realized I would need a picture to go with it and I wondered, what does silence look like? I scrolled through my camera roll and found a few pictures of nature in serenity, but I realized that silence looks different depending on what it means.

Sometimes silence is just that, a form of repose that brings peace to heart, mind and soul. That kind of silence is a rest or a reprieve from the relentless demands of daily living. Or from the constant buffetings of the wind. At Windy Rafters, when there is absolutely no movement in the tree in our front yard, when not a leaf, seedpod or twig of that maple tree moves, there is a welcoming silence.

Sometimes silence is empty, a void that seeps deep into the loneliest recesses of the psyche, as if one was the last person on earth. I wonder if those who have travelled in space and ventured outside the spacecraft into space itself, or looked back on the earth and realized they were separated from all humanity have felt that kind of silence. I would like to know. 

Silence can also be ominous. I'm thinking of the "lull before the storm" or being in the "eye of a storm". I remember travelling to Edmonton a number of years ago and as we got closer to the city there was an ominous silence as strange cloud formations drifted silently across a greenish purple sky. When we arrived we discovered a tornado had just touched down, taking the roof off of the aquatic center where we were supposed to meet family. Many people died in that tornado. 

Silence can also be full. I love this print of a painting of an elderly man in prayer. To me this silence is full. It is warm, full of gratitude. It is like an unvoiced conversation between the man and is Father, an old friend.

In relationships, silence can mean so many things. It can seethe with tension or be full of anticipation. We speak of a pregnant pause or that silence is taken as agreement. 

Years ago I had an English professor who told us we should look for the spaces, look for what is not being said or who is not speaking, as well as the spoken word. I am certainly going to look at how I use silence in my writing. How do you write silence? Just something to think about....