I need some silence, please. My world is plugged and ready to go. Lacking is silence.

And I’m beginning to understand that there’s an art to silence. I can’t change my noisy world but I can disconnect.

After children are delivered to school, the drive home is silent. Silence surrounds me on a morning run, two dogs beside me, heals crunching a leaf. Gadgets are silenced while I focus on work. Email is closed.  I don’t check caller ID. Voicemail takes the messages.

Several hours pass. School releases and tending turns toward children. They flip on the radio as chatter erupts, errands are run and the children race to their afternoon activities. Everyone is busy and engaged. They ask for help with homework. SpongeBob and the latest YouTube video fill the voids. I ask them to turn off the background noise. They claim it’s necessary for their focus. Can’t they think in silence? Do they fear silence? Dinner needs tending. The sight of the TV annoys me. I close the cabinet.

When the children are tucked in for the night and all is quiet, I go to bed with headphones listening to a meditation track. The vibration of the music seems to settle the constant flurry of activity that flutters through my head, remnants of the day.  Plugged in, I feel content. Stillness returns.  But where is silence?

It’s silence I crave.  Being alone energizes me.  Am I an introvert? But maybe I’d feel differently if my world wasn’t constantly plugged in and engaged, full of family and friends, moving from one activity to the next. But in the next thought..I can’t imagine my life without all the family, friends, and activity.

I’ve learned that it’s only by stepping outside my world that I can see what is most important to me. I’ve come to learn that I do my best work by just sitting still. The stillness energizes me. How do I teach my children the value of silence, stillness, and solitude? My vocabulary needs to include those three words more.

Do you fear silence? Does it energize you? And please, where do you find silence?