It was with great frustration that I sat down at the chapel today to beg for silence. I had spent the morning boxing and jogging. For the life of me, I couldn’t get my head straight. It was like three radios playing at once and my heart was skipping a beat between rants. I couldn’t think straight. It’s as if all of my thoughts were melting into this big waxy mess, but with each tail peeling off at my fingers. F******ck.
So I sat down. I sat down for a while and decided to let the buzz of the torture just play…just f*cking play. I don’t even care anymore. I let it be loud and I let the anxiety run through the ends of my fingers until the lyrics began to fade out…
Eventually, that chaotic bomb that was inside of me began to simmer down in some way and oddly enough the track began to make more sense.
You are not really worried about these things you are thinking of.
Why do you want to be?
The ride home was a lot quieter, I guess I finally let the right track play. Why do I want to be worried about all this? I know better. Why am I thinking about these stupid things?
The answer? Because I’m used to it.
With that thought, I felt a bond break with me and that sh*tty old habit. I don’t think it’s gone for good, but the first time is the most important. When things are changing in our lives, we sometimes revert to old strategies, old concerns, old tracks, and the old old old. With the shaping of new phases, might come a new appreciation for something else. I haven’t been able to hear a lyric all morning, but maybe I’m not supposed to, maybe that’s why I’m having trouble producing a line. Maybe, right now there is poetry is the silence. Maybe, right now is a time to feel… and to listen.