Lately I’ve had a lot of
trouble sleeping.
It’s become a challenge
these past few months. My oldest cat has her days and nights mixed
up, so I’m often awakened to the sound of books being knocked off the bedside
table. Sometimes she stands by the door that leads to the dormer and
hollers, “Hell-ooo…hell-ooo”, thinking my significant other,
Steve, will magically appear. What used to be my yoga studio has
been transformed into his man cave and Jhoti thinks he should instantly appear
whenever she calls for him, but more often than not, she’s met with
silence...and that’s a very good thing.
Silence has been something
hard to come by this year. Since last November I’ve been busier than
I’ve been in a decade, teaching yoga and taking care of twin five-year-old boys
who at one time were selectively mute. They would speak at
home with their parents and older siblings, but would freeze with strangers or
in public. At first I tried cajoling them by talking myself or
asking questions that always went unanswered. After a couple of
days, I decided to just be quiet, to let silence fill the room and see what
happened next. It didn’t take long before the floodgates opened and
I couldn’t get them to stop talking…not that I wanted to as
they are both charming, witty little boys.
So for nearly eight months,
when I wasn’t on my mat teaching sun and moon salutations, I was encouraging
the boys to speak when I took them to the playground, to order and pay for
their own food at Chick –fil-A, to ask for assistance at the
library. At first, they were hesitant, but it didn’t take long
before the boys became more confident. After a couple of months, I
forgot they were selectively mute as I marveled at the way the chatterboxes
used their charming wit with cashiers, other children, even the mailman.
Sure, there were days when
I longed for five minutes peace (and grew to have more compassion for parents
everywhere), but it was a joy to encourage, then stand back and watch the boys
as they experienced the freedom of speaking for themselves. Yes, it
was demanding and sometimes overwhelming to take care of incredibly active
young children, but they started kindergarten this week and I hope that the
experiences we had together prepared them for a lifetime of learning.
In early June, my time with
twins came to an end…and so did my yoga business. After twenty
years, it was time for a change. I thought I’d have a few weeks to
rest, but with Steve moving in shortly after, and then starting a new job as a
physician’s assistant in July, there wasn’t much time to relax and
renew. Summertime has been in full swing with buzzing lawn
mowers, humming air conditioners, and outdoor noise galore, so silence has been
a hot commodity.
For more than thirty years
I lived alone, spending hours on end in a quiet house that I often took for
granted. Now that my life has changed forever – and for the better –
it's been strange getting used to the sounds of another person walking around
or watching TV in the space above me. While I’m no longer startled
by Steve’s footfalls on the steps or the clatter of kitchen utensils when he’s
cooking later in the evening, I’m often kept awake long after my
bedtime. Still, the weekends that were once Productive Saturdays and
Silent Sundays have turned into quality time with someone who used to be the
boy next door and is now the man of the house.
As summer winds down, I’m
establishing a new normal. Steve and I have settled into a
comfortable routine. The intensity of diving back into the
professional world has transformed into calmness as I find my own
confidence in managing an office that was once completely
baffling. I take advantage of quiet mornings like this one when I
can enjoy a cup of coffee on the back porch or meditate in the garden.
Or make the time to write
again.
For nearly three years,
that part of my life has been radio silent, as I’ve not had the time, focus, or
motivation to put anything on paper. There hasn’t been consistent
quiet in which to once more get used to a blank page or screen in front of me
and trust that words will come…eventually. In some ways, I've allowed the writer inside to be
selectively mute while I dealt with a host of real-life issues, some mundane,
some incredibly intense, yet all of it grist for the mill. Now I’m ready for a change
of seasons -- both literal and literary. While I have no idea what
novel idea will emerge in the days and weeks to come, I’m thankful for the
fertile ground of my new foundation that will hold the space until it’s ready to
surface.
Sometimes silence is
golden, but lately I’ve found that silence feels more like my garden in late
summer…in full bloom yet ready for the transition to come.
