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I’m longing for silence in a world filled with noise.

I remember when I was a child and sometimes the lights went off in the entire home because there was no electricity. The noise was gone, too — no TV, no radio, no talking.

We used to light candles, and I loved it. Something profound was in our home at that time — the silence was there. We couldn’t do anything but be. We sat silently and stared at the candlelight.

But then suddenly the light would come back, and the noise would come back too. Lamps lit us with bright light, the TV shouted again, and the radio kept playing worn-out notes.

Now in my life, it’s like in my childhood home. Most of the time, the noise is in the foreground — my favorite song streams from Spotify, YouTube is waiting in line, friends instantly update me with their stories, and my mind is filling up with thoughts about tomorrow. 

But occasionally, I turn off the music and phone, and I light candles in my apartment. I sit down and hear the silence again. I breathe a sigh of relief. I’m happy.

So, since I love the silence so much, will I put her first in my life? Will I choose the quietness over the noise?

I’m a bit scared to do it. I’m afraid that I won’t be interesting if I stop creating ruffles on the water by talking about my life. I’m afraid that people will stop liking me if I won’t listen to their stories.

But the silence seduces me strongly. She’s like a lover who wants me all the time. And she picked the right time. It’s late autumn — trees, grasses, birds hide away. It’s getting quieter. Days are darker.

That’s a good time to sit quietly and be. No matter if the world pushes the noise back onto me. I can wait out the impulse to run after another sound. I can wait out the mind movie that plays out opinions, interpretations, and summaries. And I can wait out the doubt in silence.

It’s a perfect time for that.