Sometimes silence can be louder than words or actions. I normally am very interactive and communicative. Always willing to converse and at times debate [the right things]…I am often stared at with looks of confusion when I shut down and have little to nothing to say.
I don’t beg to be understood…understanding me comes with loving me…TRULY loving me. Most of my circle know without question that my silence doesn’t necessarily denote “sadness” as much as it does meditative thought. In this mode…I am on the precipice of inspiration to write. Or inspiration to decide. Or inspiration to evolve again…
Silence…so underrated a virtue…is a thing I need. There are so many “voices” that take up residence in me. The artist in me has different facets. I have my musical muse, my artistic muse (in the sketching, drawing, sense), my photographic muse, my poetic muse…::sigh::…they all come and speak to me. Some things drawn from dreams, some come mid-sentence like a flash, some come in the middle of having nothing on my mind at all. Either way…I’m constantly listening to the muses. I am also listening to the mother in me, the friend, the woman, the daughter, etc. So…beside the artistry that moves through me in ripples, waves and tides…I am also channeling the lives and happenings of my friends and family…not to mention random thoughts that strike like lightening.
With a mind that ticks constantly…to the degree that I often go (surprisingly enough for a Narcoleptic) without much sleep…I am normally as exhausted as I am full of thoughts. Imagine having a plethora of ideas and no energy to execute them. If I get a nap in the daytime (about 2hrs worth) and turn around and sleep 2hrs at night…I’m good. I am not new to lying with my eyes open in the dark, watching the shadows of the fan’s blades create a smokey blur. I have as of late…fallen asleep an hour or more BEFORE I’m slated to wake up for work.
So, I figured…that with all that is ALREADY the whimsical, eclectic, mad workshop of my mind…I deserved a little quieting. I don’t know how many of you understand the mind of an artist/above average mind. (I tip-toe around calling myself ‘genius’…sounds cocky to me)…but there is at times little to no mental rest. Even my dreams are unnaturally sharp and ridiculous. “Seeing” shit all day…catching the nuances in human behavior, drawing people’s emotions like a human soul magnet is depleting and exhausting. Working at a job where people are equally troubled to tears and angry to shouting…doesn’t help matters much.
Silence is prescribed…especially, when your words aren’t enough to say what you’re feeling or thinking. Rather than be misunderstood…I sit in silence…until the articulation returns. Bear with me…
“He who does not understand your silence will probably not understand your words.” ~Elbert Hubbard