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In my deepest loneliness, everything seems quiet.
Like being outside when it snows and the earth feels still. Sounding quieter than normal. The snow on the ground absorbs the sound.
You can see this substance rapidly falling from the sky but when it lands it doesn’t make a sound.
That’s what it feels like.
In the quiet of the day.
I wake in the morning and the house is still and quiet.
As I get my daughter dressed and do her hair all I hear is the humm of the refrigerator.
Although there are moments of chaos interwoven throughout the day it always goes back to the quiet. The place that emptiness encompasses.
It’s the stillness and silence that outweighs the lengthy hours of the day.
We play dolls and move from one thing to the next yet still it is quiet.
I hear the tv in the background something to feel the void of hush through the house.
My thoughts often drift to my late grandma.
She was always home alone in the quiet.
When I would stay with her, I always awoke to find her sitting soundlessly in the living room with the tv off. Just alone with her thoughts and the sound of the clock hands ticking.
A feeling of melancholy sets in now as an adult wondering what she must have been thinking about.
Idle time is not good.
Isolation is not good. Yet I find that it is the safest space to be when feeling vulnerable, scared, defeated. Isolation is a form of self-protection. The best refuge from life while healing is found in the solitude of silence.