Silence is its own sensation.
It does what you wouldn’t think it would do.
It rushes hushed into your ears and stays there, a silent perpetual waterfall, a whirling cyclical sound as soft and static as cotton ball clouds in your ears.
The oscillations of a tower fan.
The breeze gently rustling the curtain before the openscreened window.
The clickwhirwhoosh of the ac kicking in.
Such soft susurrations filling the air void within your ears.
A silent friend, always there.
A mother’s whisper wishing the world away to silence to quiet a child’s worrying mind to sleep, to dream …
There is sound in silence.
You just have to listen for it.
I’m going to tell you something.
You’re probably not going to believe it.
Maybe not right now, but you will.
If you want to.
Take a moment.
Do you feel that?
Just a moment longer.
Can you hear that?
That’s your heart beating.
That’s your lungs breathing.
Do you know what that means?
It means that you’re still alive.
It means that you can make it to the next moment.
It means that you still have a chance.
And don’t you know what that means?
It means you can do anything.
It’s a funny thing, isn’t it?
How much like planets in a single galaxy we all are,
caught in the great gravity of a common star.
With the attractions and oppositions
that occur during our passage,
the arc and swing of our orbits,
differing densities generating their own gravities,
either negatively or positively or indifferently.
Some disrupting or disturbing us for the worse,
others aligning our own paths for the better,
gliding in gentle sympathy,
and others still,
who never affect us at all,
their orbits aligned in harmony with ours,
but distant, impersonal.