the silence

The Silence

silenceFor the past year, I have spent more time in the space of my mind than I have for the past 61 years. I never really thought about the time I was alone. I filled the spaces. I knew the emptiness was short-lived. I knew Gregger was always coming back. To fill the space. The silence. But living alone is different. Hours go by without speaking. Hours where it’s just me. Inside my head. And I have to decide. Good thoughts. Bad. Angry. Sad. I have control. I can turn the switch. On. Off. Louder. Softer. I can change the “station.” Change my thoughts. Change my attitude. It sounds so elementary. Technically it is. Emotionally, maybe not.

silence 2I enter my “space” and immediately want noise. Lucy greets me with yaps, tongue kisses. But then the silence is deafening. I can overstimulate with TV or computers, but that doesn’t fill the “space.” It doesn’t answer back. It’s still silent. It’s still just me. Find the peace.

Being the oldest of five, I grew up in noise. I didn’t know the meaning of silence. I’d hide in my room to escape noise. But I’d find more noise. TV. Music. Phone. I cannot fall asleep without background TV. Gregger and I fought over the sleep timer. He’d turn it on. I’d turn it off. Noise all night long. Anything to block out the silence.

“Silence is not an absence of sound but rather a shifting of attention toward sounds that speak to the soul.”

silence 1I think back to my first Savasana. The final pose in yoga. The deepest pose of relaxation when all thoughts should leave the mind. Impossible. I could not do it. I would check off my grocery list. Plans for the week. Where I needed to go. What I needed to do. Anything but emptying my mind. Slowly, I began to experience the silence. I quieted my mind and as I drifted away, I would bring it back to the emptiness. At first, I lasted 15 seconds. Soon it was 30 seconds. And, before I knew it, I was able to be “silent” for the full savasana. I did not want it to end. Sometimes tears trickled down my cheeks. Where did they come from? I’d open my eyes and taste the saltiness in my mouth. I was deep in silence, yet somewhere else.

I go back to this “space” now. But I don’t need a mat. A class. A special room. I can be anywhere. My eyes open. Heart open. Mind open. The “silence” is my friend. I now have the courage to look inside. It has taken me on this journey of grief. It has helped me discover me at a difficult time. But I’ve realized I can survive. Silence is my friend. It teaches me. To befriend myself. To listen. To learn. To be mindful. Without the “silence,” there would be no time for growth. No time to feel. The joy. The sadness. The anger. The love. The hope. And what could be better than that.

Sit in the silence. Listen. To your heart. Your soul. Your breath. Your feelings. No judgments. No critiques. No scrutiny. Find your peace. It is there. Waiting for you. The serenity of silence.

Take a moment of silence to remember today…

911

Mikki Eveloff

I am certainly no princess, but I did marry my Prince Charming. We had the once upon a time and the “almost” happily ever after until August 30th, 2014 when my Prince Gregger died tragically on the beach in Maui. I believe in fairytales. I believe in fate. I believe that “everything happens for a reason.” We planned a lifetime together…75 years to be exact. Someone or something changed our plans and gave us a new “ever after.” So here I am. I am still a wife, but now they call me a widow. I am a mom and grandma…three children, two in-laws, and two grandchildren. Life has changed and it’s time to move forward. It doesn’t stop, it keeps on going, so I do too. It’s my choice. Be happy, be grateful. It’s the only choice. I have a treasure trove of memories to share..it’s how I keep the happily ever after alive. A True Love Fairytale is 40 years of memories…it’s the essence of our happily ever after. It’s the imperfections of our perfect marriage. And it’s what makes today beautiful.

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