the house free of noise

i am house sitting part of the week and it feels quite remarkable. from the lofty small patch of wee concrete branch on 32nd floor, i am now on the ground level, in a long living room, silent.  with a silvery piano that knows how to enjoy the silence.

i didnt realize how much of external forces run in my veins.  in chinley, things are different- with barely 2000 people in the village, things are quiet. there are stars and grass. sheeps, lambs, llamas and little brown calves, who may be grown into big, stubborn teenagers now. however, though it can quiet, minnow and i habitually turn on the itty old blue stereo or the sturdy tivolis when we are in the house. the bbc programs run through the house, much like the thinnest capillary vessels that reaches all part of the body and heart. and of course, with another person in the house, the space can be full of conversations, both spoken and unspoken.  at st. mary's, where i am so lucky to practice, it's on an old roman road- and passing cars do keep me company with their brief through-the-window-doppler hellos.

in yyz, everywhere i go, it's surrounded by sound. especially if im working at the school. it is very rare to practice in silence. faculty of music has a fantastic facility where we can get in 24-7 pretty much.  but even there, by 10am, it's filled with people, working hard and yes, audibly. after all, it is a music building. and this happy mayhem goes on for a long while.  occasionally i get in at ungodly hour, just to find that rare quiet time- but not as often as i would like to.  about home, well, living on 34 floor building- an official early skyscraper, it is difficult to have any silence at any cost. even when the neighbours are quiet, there is much noise from the streets that bleeds through- especially the urgent rolling of emergency vehicles.

but in this detached house, with quality fridge (i am often amazed how noisy fridges are/and other unassuming devices that can emit and fill your ears without knowing), it stays quiet.  i feel as if now i can hear myself thinking, first time in a long while.  and because i am house sitting, i am physically alone.  there's a calico cat, but she is, after all, a cat- friendly but still like to remain independent.  i can hear the house adjusting itself- somewhere, a little pop, here and there.

and then there's me. when im not playing the beautiful silver piano, i can be coddled in a comfortable silence, where things can settle, so that i may observe the smallest corner of myself. awaiting somewhat big meeting tomorrow (2 wks wait), it is possible that im somewhat saturated with anxiety.  but in this space, that anxiety is breaking down into little scales and dissipates into thin smoke. and i am allowed, to be myself again, free from gossips, opinions and political noise of all sorts.

i feel better. i feel settled. i also miss my little home on 32nd floor. but this is a retreat. yes, literally. pulling away from.  i think i will be strengthened by the time i leave. i hopefully have given enough time to my new and barely there thin roots- more like little hairs, but those roots will grow strong and big, if i can nurture them, and i may grow into who i am supposed to be, not who i simply wish to be, out of convenience.

it's a hard thing, to let yourself to develop without sabotaging, or rather, willfully 'determining' what the self should look like.  thanks to the silence, i am able to see a bit better today. and tomorrow. and days to come, even when i am back in the thick of things.

1 comment:

  1. One can see the reflection of oneself in silence, with much more clarity. Darkness and quietness are friends, if you welcome them and grow to like them. That is, until the stone train comes past at 01.55, gently rumbling its mission in the world outside, before its pointed sound tail evaporates and the silence returns.