Saturday, January 15, 2005

Silence Speaks*

I think this is my favorite time of the week when it works out like this.

I fell asleep fairly early last night (Erin's first introduction to my masterful ability to snore on the couch) and thus I woke up around 4 a.m. to the silence of the house.

Hot coffee, dogs content to sleep after a minimal amount of early morning acknowledgement, and no real agenda set yet for the day except perhaps to spend some time reading - catching up on blogs and the new Grisham novel. I'm certain when Amy gets moving she'll come up with more practical things we need to accomplish, but I've probably got several hours before there's any moment in the house beyond mine.

For the most part I lead a noisy life.

At home there is usually a TV on somewhere. The dogs bark, or howl or commit some doggie sin prompting us to bark or howl at them.

At work there is a constant barrage of people yammering at either each other or into microphones. I have police and fire scanners inches from my head blurting out non-stop information, which I've learned to run through filters in my brain listening only for key words that then mandate a response from me. One radio news network we use communicates with stations with what is called a "voice cue channel" which blares usually useless information from speakers above my head all the time. I fantasize of one day traveling to New York and finding that network guy who has interrupted my train of thought so often with completely obvious, valueless information like, "Stations! This is ABC News in New York. We'll have a newscast at the top of the hour."

It won't ever happen of course, but if I did make the trip I suspect I would end up behind a long line of radio people from around the globe who have also dreamt of tearing out that guy's tongue.

In truth, I have become good at tuning out most those distractions and doing my job amid the din. I've also become accustomed to dogs barking, TV and traffic sounds.

It's not the same as silence.

The only noise in the house at this moment is that of my fingers clicking away on the keyboard.

Mornings like this remind me that while I can muffle the pressing intrusions in life quite well with a buffer of faith and obstinance, it's only when it's truly quiet that I hear what's really important.

He makes me lie down in green pastures, He leads me beside quiet waters, He restores my soul. - Psalm 23: 2-3

*This entry prompted a post on Amy's Blog