The sound of silence.

Waiting for the results of arbitration…

For as long as I can remember I’ve loved the stolen quiet moments of cities, towns, and barns not yet awake.

Waking up in the early mornings, wandering around a strange place seeking coffee — exploring while everyone else is still sleeping is like a special and secret time. It’s made sweet because you know the quiet won’t last. Soon, as people start to stir, chaos will ensue and that sweet, quiet and stolen hour will be almost forgotten.

I find it strange after a year of chaos that waiting for our decision to be delivered is as torturous as it is… this quiet is less like a sweet and stolen moment and more like waiting on death row. Will the pardon come? Will we be granted another chance? Have our hopes been lifted only to be dashed in the final hour?

Our lives have stalled waiting for news to which there is no doubt, positive or negative, will entirely change our life path. This particular quiet is deafening.

I find I have butterflies all the time. It’s so quiet I can almost hear them fluttering about trying desperately to escape. I hear them every time a concerned community member or friend asks us if we’ve had any news. I feel them when I realize that in this process we have become more connected to our community than we have ever been. There is so much more to lose now than there ever was before.

As much as I want this silence to end, I want it to last forever. In the silence we still exist. In the silence nothing has changed.

And yet the longer the silence persists the more stagnant it becomes… Less like a stolen hour and more and more like purgatory.

Eventually, even bad news is a welcome change.

We know the silence will end soon and chaos will ensue. I’m trying my best to enjoy the calm before the storm and am sorry to report I’m failing miserably this week!

Maybe music will help…

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