Silence
It has been interesting to realize that what has thrown me a touch off the past few days has been the complete and utter, peaceful silence of my new home. There are the bugs and the occasional ruckus from the pigs about fifty meters on, but then its just myself, the moonlight and my own thoughts rattling around in my head. This particular novel state of affairs has been brought about by the complete and utter failure of my iPod to respond to any of my numerous attempts and strategies to coax it back to life. I’ve resorted to seeking outside assistance and will collect the appropriate info on the insurance plan soon enough, so all is not lost on the music front (thank the lord), but for now I get to dwell in the curious depths of solitude provided by the lack of ambient noise.
Now that I’ve identified the source of my vague angst I find it quite the opposite, but before that particular light bulb moment it really had me off kilter. I’m still not sure what particular aspect of silence had me thrown but towards an explanation would be the shear rarity of the situation and how noise, usually in the form of music for myself, tends to break up the uniformity of space that makes up an evening. A song will occasionally interject itself into the conscious space around you and distract for a few bars or a lustily sung chorus from the matter currently at hand. The same can be said for the base rattle of someone’s pimped ride passing outside or your noisy upstairs neighbor. Many people’s TV plays the role of constant background companion. For me there is also the continuous ritual of finding the right kind of music for that particular mood and fussing over the computer to make it so. Which also brings to the fore exactly how much music affects my moods.
So what to do in the absence of all of that? Relax. Meditate. Not in the gymnastically challenged humming sort of way, but the existing fully in whatever you happen to be doing; calm and centering sort of way. Its amazing how such a simple realization and subsequent switch in views of reality completely changed my evening. I went from feeling vaguely lost and, as mentioned, slightly off kilter, to feeling very focused towards whatever I felt like setting my mind too. Unidentified sounds outside still make me a bit jumpy, but I can simply “raise the drawbridge” by hanging my ladder outside the door and effectively place myself 6 feet above whatever shadows and bogymen are lurking in the night. A simple hook and eyelet on the door and windows completes my castle’s defenses. Maybe I’ll add some pots of boiling oil later.
Having gone to college in a large city, and even during my high school days in rural Iowa I cannot think of a time when this much silence has been such an integral part of the fabric of my existence. I’ve always gone out of my way to fill the void with activity and noise. Maybe my musical crisis isn’t quite the catastrophe I once thought.
And maybe not so silent. I can now hear the distant sound of someone playing the gongs floating across the evening. People are dancing and merrymaking somewhere this night.
Now that I’ve identified the source of my vague angst I find it quite the opposite, but before that particular light bulb moment it really had me off kilter. I’m still not sure what particular aspect of silence had me thrown but towards an explanation would be the shear rarity of the situation and how noise, usually in the form of music for myself, tends to break up the uniformity of space that makes up an evening. A song will occasionally interject itself into the conscious space around you and distract for a few bars or a lustily sung chorus from the matter currently at hand. The same can be said for the base rattle of someone’s pimped ride passing outside or your noisy upstairs neighbor. Many people’s TV plays the role of constant background companion. For me there is also the continuous ritual of finding the right kind of music for that particular mood and fussing over the computer to make it so. Which also brings to the fore exactly how much music affects my moods.
So what to do in the absence of all of that? Relax. Meditate. Not in the gymnastically challenged humming sort of way, but the existing fully in whatever you happen to be doing; calm and centering sort of way. Its amazing how such a simple realization and subsequent switch in views of reality completely changed my evening. I went from feeling vaguely lost and, as mentioned, slightly off kilter, to feeling very focused towards whatever I felt like setting my mind too. Unidentified sounds outside still make me a bit jumpy, but I can simply “raise the drawbridge” by hanging my ladder outside the door and effectively place myself 6 feet above whatever shadows and bogymen are lurking in the night. A simple hook and eyelet on the door and windows completes my castle’s defenses. Maybe I’ll add some pots of boiling oil later.
Having gone to college in a large city, and even during my high school days in rural Iowa I cannot think of a time when this much silence has been such an integral part of the fabric of my existence. I’ve always gone out of my way to fill the void with activity and noise. Maybe my musical crisis isn’t quite the catastrophe I once thought.
And maybe not so silent. I can now hear the distant sound of someone playing the gongs floating across the evening. People are dancing and merrymaking somewhere this night.
posted by george at 6:00 AM
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