Silence is Tarnished
There have been so many days where all I wanted was some silence. The racket around me, the noise outside, the voices inside, even the sounds in my head that no one else could hear. Everyone is always so afraid of voices in the head. I used to be. Maybe I still should be. A year without working, after years of doing nothing else gives one a lot of extra time to reflect. Reflection doesn’t always give us the satisfaction that we think it will. Past conversations, situations and unwanted interruptions become a jumble in the brain. You store them with the belief that, when you have the time, you will bring them back out and reevaluate them. The road to good intentions is paved with all sorts of hell. Sometimes it’s all you can do to see the road because of the hell.
When I found myself no longer working, it was strangely not weird. I had all thoughts of being nothing but productive. So many things needed organizing, throwing out, cleaned, dumped, not to mention overhauled. But, quicker than I could expel a long, satisfying deep breath, I forgot where it was I wanted to start. “No big deal,” I’d say. “Tomorrow won’t be too late.” I would turn out the lights, lie in bed, in the dark, and play some mind numbing game on my phone. Morning always comes and finds my brain still not caught up with the day before. How can anyone get used to the hours a retired person keeps? Is there some point that I will finally have that refreshed feeling and jump headfirst into the pool of my hoarding?
One day I had a job. The next day, I had surgery. Two weeks after that, I had a mother who required a full rotation of caregivers and a three-person team to pull it off. Everything went downhill, including my good intentions. There are constants in life, but they don’t always include the promise of good health until the last breath a person takes. Life is hard. Sometimes it seems it’s only hard for a chosen few. Maybe there are people who handle it differently, better, with more grace? I’m different, alright. There is nothing better about me. The only thing I have going in my favor, besides my small family circle and smaller circle of friends, is the grace given me by God. I don’t deserve it, after the way I’ve behaved so many times in my life. However, I will take it and hold onto it until the very last ounce is squeezed from it and I waltz through the Pearly Gates of Heaven. For the record, I do expect St Peter, or whoever else may be on duty at the time of my Home Going, will direct me straight to the nearest corner for some time out. It will be ok because at least I will have gotten inside.
I’ve been absent from this blog for 3 months, I believe. When I start a new thing, my first reaction is excitement. I buy in, full force and without hesitation. Soon, the steam runs out and I become scared of the thing it is I’m trying to do. What if it’s not good enough? What if I can’t get everything I want to say down in words, in order of occurrence? Should I or shouldn’t I have a straightforward timeline? Once I get that ball stopped, it never seems to want to roll again. So I’ve looked at this computer for these past 3 months and almost willed it to write for me. It would be awesome if the computer could read my thoughts and jot them down so that I don’t forget what it is that I wanted to talk about in the first place. Disjointed thoughts and misconstrued ideas take over and it becomes easier to simply NOT write the next entry in this blog. However, I can be very determined. I’m hoping that I won’t give up on myself this time. I’m too old to keep giving up. There is still time to accomplish something, even if I die tonight, I’ve accomplished a few things of significance. In the vortex of chaos that I often talk about, I have been able to forge some closer friendships with people that have proven themselves to be deserving of any small amount of time any of us have left. There are relationships that have healed, relationships that have ended, some relationships that have been put on hold. Sometimes, the soul cries out for a certain thing that only one particular person, or group of people, can assist with. It’s when the soul stops crying out at all, that I get scared. We should all be scared when our souls stop crying out. That signifies no hope for a better tomorrow or brighter future. I don’t want to be that person with the soul that doesn’t cry out. I must say, though, it would be nice if the silence became golden again. Right now, it’s tarnished. Saltwater tends to remove tarnish if the water is hot enough. Crying hot tears may be the order of the day.