I am starving for silence these days. I am busy with work, social commitments, and a personal commitment to getting fit. Absent from my time table is my silent time. My space for writing, reading and soul searching is quickly evaporating. And I feel myself getting crabby. My soul is feeling depleted, and I can’t seem to get the space I need to actually nourish myself. At best, I find small moments to tide me over, like a spiritual snack. But, I’m not able to get satiated.
I find myself constantly surrounded by a thrum of noise; voices answering technical support questions on the phones outside my cubicle, the steady whine and thumps of machines at the gym, the rhythmic beats of songs on the stereo, baritones reading news reports over the radio, or the blitzkrieg of sound and images that is t.v. I’ve started turning the radio off when I’m on my way to work, instead of listening to my usual Minnesota Public Radio News or even listening to my iPod. And I’ve started turning the t.v. off more and more frequently. It’s still not enough for me.
I feel bad for J at the present moment because I’ve snapped at him twice in the last couple of days for minor stupid things. Right when I’m beginning to make progress on writing or feeling like I’ve almost captured a wisp of an idea, that’s the moment he enters the room and makes a noise. Then, I lose my train of thought and my momentum. My clutching fingers lose their grip on that fleeting flash of brilliance, and I hit the ground hard. Time to start over again. In the midst of that, I perceive that my sacred space just got violated. Which then means I turn into a shrew. This week I don’t even want to live with me.
I have, at least, been catching myself as I am frustrated. Even as the beginning of a frustrated monologue comes out, I find myself saying “it’s not your fault that I’m frustrated. I know that you’re trying to mind your own business. I’m not being rational. I’m sorry. I will shut up now.” And I feel awful that I scared him back down into the basement five minutes ago. He was kind enough not to argue with me, even though I was in the wrong.
And I’ve got to figure out something with our schedule. It’s clearly not working, as I am feeling spiritually anemic. And if my spirit’s not healthy, nothing else is going to be either.