Something I’ve found most interesting as of late is how I have to work in silence to get anything done. While Mr. Canuck is down the hall with his music blasting some kind of dancing remix or 80s 8-bit jam, I am sitting in the window of the master bedroom curled up with a blanket listening to silence.
Well… not always silence. Recently I’ve begun to listen to tapping/ scratching ASMR which is still noise but easy enough to block out when I need to focus on the world I’m writing about. When I was young I always blasted music in my ears. Listening to Coheed and Cambria or Evanescence while writing was how I blocked out my reality back then. I honestly don’t know how I was able to do it. Now that I think back, maybe that was one reason I never wrote well…
Still, the point I’m trying to make is as I’m getting older I am starting to appreciate silence more. I get a lot of work done in silence… and when silence bothers so many people I can’t help but find peace in it. Silence to me means that nothing around me is happening. This silence shows that the world around me is still and calm allowing my mind to not have to pay attention to the world around me but permit myself to dedicate what energy I need to the busy world errupting in my mind. While my world inside my head is dealing with explosions, battles, creature chases, angered debates – the world in reality is utterly silent.
Weird, isn’t it? When something like silence can create in itself the noisiest of situations. That while I’m sipping my tea and my foot is tapping in reality, my mind sees a bloody battle field or hand-to-hand combat. When I take a deep breath through my nose and readjust myself so my bum doesn’t go numb, that my mind hears two opposite nations arguing over resources or singing in a main atrium of one of the Glass Towers.
Silence to me is as inspiring as music. In silence I can paint pictures in my mind. In silence I can create worlds from white noise.
“Writing is a product of silence.”