9 Comments

  1. Nita
    September 6, 2017 @ 12:59 am

    When I’m quiet, I hear the birds chirping, the crickets singing, the traffic buzzing, the murmur of voices far away.
    When I’m quiet, I hear my breath moving in and out of my lungs, my heart beating, my mind racing.
    When I’m quiet, I hear the world, MY world as it is now, without anticipation or trepidation, but with ACCEPTANCE for the way thing are in this sweet moment of silence.

  2. Julie T
    September 6, 2017 @ 4:11 am

    When I’m quiet I hear the wind whisper through my hair. It notices my attention and tries to sneak over the rise, right over there. But it is excited, a young dog at play, its tail wags hard and it whistles as it climbs the rise. I hear it and turn to watch the sound move across the dry meadow. The windling rushes up behind me, I turn and it has engulfed me. I am standing in the center of a dust devil! Bits of leaf spiral up around my ankles. I turn as the critter moves away, continuing on a few feet before rising up into the sky, its footprints no longer visible on the earth.

    When I’m quiet I hear the unseen. I see the trees move when there is no wind. I feel the wary gaze of hidden eyes. When I’m quiet I enter back into the sisterhood of Life.

  3. Ellen Malcolmson
    September 6, 2017 @ 11:09 pm

    When I’m quiet I hear lists. Noisy lists. Screaming almost. They say things like “clean your desk” or “do your filing” or “do the laundry” or “eat more vegetables” or “turn off that annoying bong that announces emails.”
    When I’m quiet I hear wishes; that my pace was slower, that I was still at the cottage, that my mom lived closer.
    When I’m quiet I hear stories of my childhood and memories that make me happy and others than make me wistful.
    When I’m quiet I hear time passing so swiftly that I want to reach out and hold the hands of the clock still for another minute just to have more quiet.

  4. Moira MacDonald
    September 7, 2017 @ 5:41 pm

    When I’m quiet I hear my own heartbeat.
    I am reminded of how elemental this is, how primal, essential. This heart that has beaten since before I even knew I was me. This heart that has pulled me along, even when I didn’t think I could go any further, whether that was physically – the slog through the Himalayan Langtang Valley, its crisp peaks taunting me in their gorgeous shininess – or emotionally – the waking up day after day into the nightmare of a relationship collapsing just as I was bringing new life into the world.
    Yet my heart beat strong. When I let all else fall away, it remains. It says, “Continue. Never mind. Persist. This is what matters. I am here and I will carry you all your days. And when it is time, we will rest, together.”

  5. Jacky
    September 7, 2017 @ 9:09 pm

    Don’t you feel self-conscious when you’re doing nothing at all? When I’m quiet I hear voices from my past telling me that if I’m not doing something useful, at least I should be having fun. I shouldn’t waste my time. I must have a list somewhere of things I meant to do.

    It’s tricky, finding a way to shut those voices down. All the things I can do to make them go away are more things to do: exercise. meditate, phone someone, doodle, write….. Sometimes I get an ear-worm: Kris Kristopherson sings the first few bars of “Convoy” over and over in the back of my head.

    But when I’m really quiet, when I can just be, and listen and absorb – I hear my husband belch in the next room. I hear the cat snoring. I hear the mechanical hum the house makes, a radio playing across the road, the wind, the rain. Sometimes I can hear the traffic two blocks away on Queen Street.

    Sometimes I can make this last 3 or 4 minutes before the kettle whistles, the phone rings, the cat wants to be fed. The voice in my head tells me to make another list. And quiet time is over.

  6. Lindsey
    September 12, 2017 @ 2:07 am

    When the world turns quiet and still and silent, all she can hear is her breath. In and out. It’s not the same as being underwater. There, beneath the surface staring at the solid black line there is no silence. Instead there is counting. Of stokes of breath of bubbles. Streaming out of both her nose and mouth, muscles slack. In the background she hears the steady beat of her legs. At times she forgets the count. The important count, the length or set. Everything giving way to the tiny measures in between, the pull the kick breath in and out. Everything giving way to the bubbles and her underwater meditation.

  7. Lana
    October 2, 2017 @ 9:00 pm

    When I’m quiet I hear deafening silence- the lack of streetcars, joyous dragqueen tunes pouring out of day-drinking bars, horns, all the people, Linseed’s voice…
    My doubts, fears, worries, the voices of past lovers, the beat of my anxious heart, a bird’s call, the pause. My own waiting for someone else to guide me, invite me, please me, adore and dance me across the room with firm hands so I don’t have to lead- don’t have to create structure- don’t have to be innovative or inventive.
    Steady peace building and connections- expression-screaming at a wall- throwing fruit- a cat’s meow- his cold steel voice- his arrogance and concern and critique- his breath beside me- the mix of kindness and ambivalence

  8. Lorie Gelsheimer
    October 9, 2017 @ 3:49 pm

    When I’m quiet I here nothing. That nothingness scares me. I feel a little bit of panic… uneasiness. Although I intend to remain to still, my body shifts naturally. I begin to relax and then when my time is up, I want the quiet, the nothingness to continue. It’s nothing that I want more of… not something, nothingness allows me to be happy and free. It lets me off the hook of obligation. It frees my spirit. I feel free to be me without anything else I need to do right at this moment…. nothing. I feel too many times have been nothing. Too many times I’ve reached out and realized that it was all a big race somewhere, but I was already there. What is it I am looking for? More? Or just having fun! Fun, fun, fun, free to be me. Nothing to do but enjoy the journey. I’d like to try that again very soon… nothing but peace… aiming for peace and prosperity that are already within me.

  9. Alex
    October 11, 2017 @ 4:41 am

    When I’m quiet I hear…
    Charlotte (my cat) snoring.
    CBC radio.
    My son, in the basement, hanging out with his girlfriend on Facetime or Skype.
    The fridge humming.
    When these sounds are absent, our house in the forest is so very quiet.
    When it’s quiet I want to turn on some sound. I want people to come home. I want to hear voices.
    When I’m outside, in the forest, alone, I don’t crave sound. I don’t want to connect, to talk, to have the company of voices. Just – silence. I’d like to say I listen to the sounds of nature but in our forest there is so little sound. Carniverous trees (ha, caught myself writing that and decided to go head, funny) – coniferous trees. No animals, few birds, few insects. BC rainforests are quiet places – except when the water is running. Then you can’t hear yourself think. It’s during that time that the noise causes me unease – I can’t hear anything, can’t tell if something’s coming to get me (a bear! a cougar! oh my!). Summer and the absence of water, of noise, is reassuring, is easy. It’s easy to be alone and at ease in the summertime forest.
    When I’m quiet, I hear.
    When I hear nothing at home, I want sound, company. I want this place to be peopled, to be alive. It’s not home without these sounds. I hear absence, I feel the absence.
    When I hear nothing in the forest, I’m calm, happy, easy. There is no absence there.

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