On Silence
It is the last week before New Year’s
My office is empty. The week has been this way, and I love it. The corridors are long and quiet, the water cooler corner all silent, the pantry deserted and a sea of calm cubicles lie ahead of me. Mostly vacant. It is the last week before New Year’s.
An excited Dracula, I rise from my coffin, graciously gliding through the floors, catching the panoramic view of headless chairs and lifeless monitors. Looks like I am in for some Dracula (me) time! I could sprint and float across the floor and thunderously barge in the human-free meeting rooms, my dark cape flowing behind me. I could smile and reveal my teeth, pointy and sharp, drinking all the water (instead of blood, of course!). I am mostly blood thirsty, you see, but for water. I love water. As I nourish my thirsty throat and savage soul, I cover my nose with a black cape again before vanishing into thin air, and right into my bay, by my computer.
I could make a great Dracula, you see. The Dracula who loves silence.
For silence is such an underrated thing.
Almost everyone wants to run away from it and fill the world with meaningless chatter and chaos, because we are afraid of silence. It makes us uncomfortable; it makes us nervous. We laugh out loud and crack tasteless jokes, barely realizing it is our hollow existence, we are poorly attempting to fill. On a deeper level, society has taught us that silence is bad. You must talk, you must be smart and take control. You must get everyone’s attention and hold it with series of blurry incidents that you can rant about. You may go on for hours, every day and they will gather to hear you speak. They will laugh because that is the pattern of a humble audience. It wants to offer a velvety throne to the speaker, sure to shield his fragile ego. Please go on.
But listen when you are done. Listen to the silence, for it is golden. And once you taste it, you know how enriching it is. All that we do or create in silence, rewards us back with wonderful results. It rewards our focus and concentration with fruits of labor.
It reminds me of working on 5 am mornings, writing intricate pieces of articles, like this one.
Why then do we not appreciate it, just a little bit more? And why don’t we practice it often?
This week at work, I am not only getting a lot of work done quicker and faster, but also cherishing the freedom to plan the coming year, to jot down my thoughts and introspect my actions. I am ever-so focused and calm because there is now space for the mind to think and breathe. There is barely any disturbance or distraction. This is bliss.
So, with a dramatic Dracul-ian jump, I land in my coffin, because Dracula’s too need to go miles before they sleep. But silently.
Isn’t this the best time, after all?
