Fluent in Silence

I saw a quote the other day that said, and I'm paraphrasing here, if you're too tired to speak, sit beside me. I am fluent in silence. 

I love this quote, because I, too, am fluent in silence. I love silence. And I detest noise. If there is any noise ongoing in my house most of the time, it's a smooth jazz or classical radio station. I do sometimes have the television on, but I watch very little live television. I much prefer to record programs so I can later fast forward through the endless barrage of screaming commercials. 

Many Americans, it seems, are uncomfortable in silence. I prefer to read or to go for a walk, either alone or with one of my dogs. They are great silent companions.

Winter is the perfect silent time of year. Nobody is mowing the lawn or doing other noisy outside work. Windows are tightly closed against the cold. Snow helps to muffle outside sounds.

Remember the popular 1960s song, The Sound of Silence?

That song came to mind early one morning as I sat in my office, reading a book of historical fiction on my Kindle. My dogs were snoozing on the floor near my chair. The only sound was the whirring of a space heater nearby, doing its best to warm up the room.

I was reminded recently that I like silence. Unlike so many people, who can't stand silence and who want to fill the void with noise, I much prefer silence to noise. Sometimes I will listen to background music, but most of the time I live in silence. I don't need the television on to provide background noise. 

I love the sound of nothing. Sometimes I can hear my dogs gently snoring or dreaming. But otherwise I surround myself with silence. I absolutely hate the sound of the furnace running. There has always been something about that sound -- the frequency, perhaps? -- that has really irritated me.

There is nothing wrong with silence. The silence of the wilderness, broken only by the chirping of birds, the crunching of leaves beneath my boots, or the sound of rushing water -- those are noises I love. 

Some people, my daughter among them, dislike silence because she is very social and spent most of her formative years in an orphanage (I adopted her when she was n11n years old). Even today at 31 years old she hates being alone. 

Some dislike silence because it causes them to think about our insecurities or things we prefer not to face. I think this fear of introspection is a major reason so many dislike silence. Social anxiety is another reason

I have always been a quiet person. It's just the way I am. Even as a child, I preferred reading to playing with other kids. The Scholastic book fair was a highlight of my school year. I don't make noise. And I don't like noise.

I wish the world had a greater appreciation of us quiet ones, the thoughtful ones, the contemplative ones.