It is so quiet, every small settling of the house causes the aging wood to cry out with a sharp, loud “pop” that echoes through the dark room where it sit. I can hear the wind chimes as they are harshly caressed by the brisk north wind; a wind that howls loudly as it licks the roof, as if trying to lift it off and sweep it away. Clouds are low and gray. They run swiftly across the sky ahead of the wind. It is a gloomy sky and the house is in dark shadow as a result. I should turn on a lamp. But I am bound by the silence that surrounds me. Unable to force myself to move beneath the heavy weight of those dark clouds.
A train whistle sounds in the distance. Several yards away, a dog barks and my two Schnauzers perk their ears in interest. Then, they lay their head back down on my lap. I listen to the ambient sounds. The raging voice of silence. The language of isolation. The substance of nothingness.
I have spent most of my life alone, cloaked in and smothered by heavy silence. Aloneness has been my one faithful companion. Such as it is.
Life is nothing like what I pictured it would be. It has not turned out the way I thought it would turn out and has not become what I expected. I am not where I believed I would be at this point. I do not like where I have ended up.
I didn’t expect this ever present and oppressive silence. I didn’t believe the pain and isolation would continue for so long. For my entire life. I didn’t believe the emptiness would remain a constant, nagging dagger in my heart. I didn’t expect the brokenness to persist for a lifetime. I fully believed I would be whole by now. Happy. Healed.
I believed I would know and be part of the noise of a real, full, rewarding life. I believed I would overcome.
Why is life so bleak and meaningless for me…yet so rich, cherished, full and beloved by most others? Why does my world resemble a dry desert without oasis or shelter from the scorching, unrelenting sun?
The silence of life binds me. It ties me up. It insulates me from all that is good, wondrous and worthy. There is no life-giving water in my desert, yet I am drowning. I am drowning in the noise of silence. Drowning in the endless quiet. Silence screams at me, holding my head underwater as it shouts.
I can’t help but wonder if this is all there will ever be for me?
I struggle in this muffled, empty world, fighting my way through, trying to survive. The life I yearn for was ripped from me when I was but a child. It was torn from my grasp before I could take even a single sip of unfettered joy. I have chased that joy all my life, but what was taken from me has not been restored.
I can’t help but wonder if this, this empty, soundless existence, is what my life was meant to be?
I wanted so much more. But the silent ties that bind me have not loosed with time. In fact, they have tightened like a boa constrictor until they are now unbearable. They strangle all that is good. Pain is amplified as it echoes across the sand of this desolate wasteland. I am overcome by the vast barrenness of my life. Overwhelmed by the unrelenting noise of silence.
I am saddened to think this is all I will likely ever know. All I will ever experience.
I know we are promised more in the next world; the eternal world that lies just beyond our own. But you see, I had high hopes for this life…at least in the beginning. And so, I’m disappointed. I’m disappointed that silence still imprisons me in this hollow, isolated wasteland I am forced to call home.
I long to be set free from the silent ties that bind me in this noiseless, desolate world. I long to move on. I am ready for random sound and laughter. I want to live noisily. And joyously. Unfettered. For once, flying free.
If only silence would release its hold on me…