On nights like these I used to worry — that he’s ignoring me, that he doesn’t want me around, that I’m being pushed away and rejected. Now I know he’s probably asleep, or maybe out with friends. And that’s fine. I’m enjoying my book and spending some time on my own with myself in my own world for a change.

It’s quiet here. No music playing after 4 hours of rehearsal except what’s in my head. No TV. I thought about turning it on, now that I finally got the cable hooked up. But it doesn’t call to me. Why would I let a few hours pass in front of the TV until it’s late enough to go to bed, watching other people’s ideas and dreams when I don’t have enough time to follow-up on my own.

Could I be starting to feel comfortable inside my own head? In the silence of my own thoughts?

Wait. Silence inside my head? I never thought that would be possible. But there are long moments in which I find myself when thought quiets and I feel the thrum of energy connecting us all as one. Breath in. Breath out. It all just is. And I can be.

In between the hectic schedule, the meetings, the things to do, to design, to accomplish, lists of things to cross off, there are long silent moments of connectedness.

The PMS has abated today. Thank the gods for small wonders.

A poem comes to mind that a friend sent me:

by Fedor Tyutchev (1830)

Speak not! Do not open your soul’s intimate abode.
What you may feel, what you may dream – in profundi let it steam.
Safeguard it in your spirit’s mine
Let it ascend and then decline, like silent stars on Heaven’s dome.
Bathe in their light and watch them roam,
Admire them, splendid or bleak,
But in silence, do not speak

How can a heart be braced in words?
Another fathom what is yours?
And understand what you live by?
A thought expressed becomes a lie.
Don’t muddy springs, lucid and unique:
Drink from their depth, but do not speak.

Learn to live within yourself. Explore a universe that’s you.
Behold between your soul’s shores
All the mysterious thoughts.
Know: noise rips the enigmatic lace, destroys the magic chorus.
Noon rays will make it weak.
Listen to the song, but do not speak.

For a slightly different translation (Russian to English), see: Silentium!.