Sometimes I feel like I want to just disappear
Like a dry erase marker on a white board —
one swipe, and everything I am… just gone.
Sometimes I feel like I can’t hear myself because
Everything around me is so loud
That guy talking on his phone while I try to enjoy my dinner
That woman gossiping about her latest love affair
The coffee cup as it hits the table,
The silverware that clinks against everything it comes into contact with
The constant chatter, the beeping, the ringing
And I wish to myself that it would all just stop.
What would I give for silence?
What would I give to sit in complete quietude with someone
Without being expected to entertain in some way
Someone who could watch me crawl into my hermit hole
And gently cradle me as I made my way back out into the noise.
What would it feel like to sit with myself and not hear the questions
Why are you here?
Why did you come?
What would it feel like to see my phone as just a phone again?
Sometimes I reminisce on the days when I owned a phone with a cord and a base attached to it.
One that, when I left my home,I wouldn’t have to bring along with me like another child… or my lifeline.
Sometimes I wonder what it would it feel like to not absorb the screaming that comes from the countless apps demanding and vying for me… or the many voices on the giant book of faces all chattering and clamoring for my attention.
Sometimes the noise of my life is too loud, even for me.
And those are the times when I wish I could just inconspicuously fade to black.
If for nothing else than to just sit in darkness and quietude… silence.
And what would it feel like to stay there as long as I needed?
Without pressure from the outside world to get it together
Or to make myself look presentable
Or to smile because emotions make people uncomfortable?
What would it feel like to rid myself of the shame around my need for retreat?
To wear it proudly like a badge of honor and perhaps put it on my resume as a
“You don’t need to worry, Mr. Smith. As you can see from my resume, I tend to be very self-contained!”
What would my need for space tell my own daughter about creating healthy boundaries?
Would she learn healthier coping skills than I did?
Would she be healed from the perception that taking space means abandonment?
Because anyone who knows me knows I don’t disappear for too long,
and that my need for blackness only pushes me further into the light.
And when I come back, I only come back with a newfound love and appreciation for the noise.
So in this space of quietude, I write these words because even though I feel alone in this, I also know there are countless others in this world faced with the longing…
… for silence.
Natalie Sophia is a self-proclaimed writer, healer, yogini. Her mission in life is to heal and be healed. She loves to laugh, to feel and to write. She began her journey of awakening a few years ago, and though there are times she longs to go ‘back to sleep’, she knows she has work to do. Her work and her passion are one and the same, and she hopes to inspire others on their life path to attend to their deepest longings as a soul in a human body. Natalie feels that life is meant to be enjoyed, not endured. She knows that pain can be inevitable, but there is always choice in the story created from that pain. Feel free to check out more from Natalie on Facebook.