Just before he left I noticed that unpleasant flutter of my heart- what was that? Fear? Panic? Why would I be nervous to be left alone? Haven’t I been waiting for this all week?
So I busy myself with surface things while I wait for him to leave. I check email, chat on facebook, pick up my socks. I learn about indoor gardening and research strength training, because we all know I’m going to start doing these things soon. Even after he leaves, when I am free to create, I read a light articles about becoming a “beautiful badass.”
Why am I afraid of the silence?
Perhaps I will find only dullness. Perhaps there will be nothing to create, nothing to say. Perhaps I will be (horror of horrors) unproductive, and a failure. Perhaps I will be bored. Perhaps I will be empty. Or challenged. Perhaps I will bleed or cry, alone here in the hotel room.
Silence is unpredictable.
Writing is hard.
I must take it in small pieces: this project, and the silence. I will turn off my phone and disconnect from the internet if only for a half hour.
How much noise is in your life?
Do you ever shut it all off?
What is it like for you?