Have I ever mentioned that I have trouble with quiet? Those who know me IRL certainly might surmise that at the sheer amount of words that can emit from my mouth when I am in good company. Can I help that I love good conversation?
But serioiusly - silence - that complete silence where all you can hear is your own breath and maybe your heart beat - freaks.me.out!
I am sitting ont he front porch right now and if there weren't birds twittering in the trees, kitty cats crunching on their food or the gentle clanking sound of my wooden windchimes, I might freak out.
I have a theory. After my parents divorce, I stayed at home alone a LOT. I was only about 10 by the time my brother went to live with our dad. I don't think I ever told anybody how scared I was to be left alone. My mom would get angry at me if I made her feel guilty for going out at night to the clubs she frequented, so I never told her that I was terrified. One thing that helped me feel better was to have either the TV or the radio on at all times.
Eventually I got older and stopped being scared, but I never got over being freaked out by the silence. Even today it is an issue. I can't stand the quiet.
And there is one thing a writer needs great amounts of, which would be my greatest tool and that is uninterrupted silence. Now that I really really want it, I can't seem to get it.
I have passed this on to my children who all seem to have to have something audible going on at all times. Today we were hiking some of the trails, me thinking that being connected with nature would help me reconnect a little with real life and help the writing process. We are walking along, having nice gentle conversation, hearing leaves rustle, looking at cobwebs, when all of a sudden some sort of gangsta music starts to play - it's Kendra with music blaring from her cell phone.
At least until I shot her the evil eye.
She said it helps her enjoy nature more - I beg to differ.