Sometimes I just need silence. There are moments when I wish I could close my ears as easily as I close my eyes, shut out the world for a few tiny minutes, bask in the glory of no noise. Or just place my headphones over my ears, turn the volume up, close my eyes and wait for my heart to soar. Just a few minutes, a few minutes to recreate the balance that has become top-heavy. Readjust the scales, put the thousands of noises and smells and visions and feelings that fly into me, clashing together en route, into their proper little boxes in my brain. Those boxes that are covered in colours that blend together to create a wonderfully multicolored life that sometimes, just sometimes, needs a little calm. A waxing and waning hurricane that requires a little rest by the ocean before tearing onwards and upwards towards its next destination.
Little voices need my ears and my arms, day and night; words ping onto my phone screen looking for answers or help or just to make me laugh; music comes from one side of the room and smashes into the sound of the cartoon that is playing on the other side. Peppa Pig and Nick Cave melt together, becoming one in my mind, and while the image itself is quite entertaining, the reality is a little jarring. Twinkle twinkle little star in my red, right hand. Can someone please ask Robert Smith to record a few lullabies?
Remember when as a child you would look towards adulthood and imagine that all of a sudden everything would change, you would suddenly become more responsible, know the answers to questions, even invincible? Then slowly but surely, as the years pass you realize that you are still the same child inside, your shell is a little weathered and your features more defined, but there was no adult awakening. Instead you continue to walk along your path wondering what being an adult actually means. I feel like such a fraud at times, playing at this game of "being an adult", accepting, embracing the role of parent but still protecting that shy, scared but strong willed soul inside of me. She fights back sometimes, urging me to just jump in the deep end with abandon while I weigh the pros and cons, balancing freedom and responsibilities on both palms of my hands. Adult is just a word for being over 21, nothing more than a word. I think we are all still searching for those elusive answers, some of us trembling inside, but determined not to show it. While the fears of earlier years have subsided somewhat others have taken their place, as simple joys have taken the place of the constant search for something more, something better. Nowadays it’s all about the opening of a rose, the scent of freshly laundered clothes in the wind, a long walk down a country lane. Dreams are less of foreign travels and new discoveries and more of good health and happy children, but nonetheless still entwined. Priorities move around the board, hopping over each other to find a more advantageous spot in the game, and some wishes are stranded for a while until their turn comes round again. My main concern nowadays is to slow everything down, embrace all of the moments and let go of those that won’t be coming round anymore. Some things are just better left to others, or, at least, better left in the past. Nostalgia will cover those memories in a soft, pink cloud, and will allow me to write about them later in a different light.
Ah, in the end silence isn’t always necessary. A few moments to myself to pull these words out of my mind and onto paper also help balance those scales again. A little time with The Cure, singing at the top of my voice twirling a baby around the room works too. A long walk around, imagining life in all of the pretty houses surrounding us; hearing my eldest say a new word out of the blue; baking something delicious that makes others happy; and a long, hot shower with the birds chirping in the background through the open window. I don’t need much, but sometimes I have to remember when I do need something to make it known. Silence can be as expansive as it can be harmful.