The big reveal of day five is – I don't have to do this anymore. I suddenly realized my silence is different than Anne's silence in her book. Her silence was just that – silence – no talking for a whole day. My silence never involved not talking. My silence involved trying to make my world as quiet as possible and then sit still in it for 15 minutes. With the exception of a few words of friendly exchange before yoga class, and a phone call from my husband, I spend way more time not talking to anyone than Anne does each week, which caused me to pause and examine my own silence.
Today I didn't shut off or even mute the TV. I just plopped into my favorite rocking chair (which is still in the TV room) and turned on VH1 and let my mind go. And what did I find? I found that it's what I have been doing since I was 14 years old and it has been the key to my sanity ever since.
I had a huge, private, almost apartment-like room upstairs throughout my high school years. (best gift my parents ever gave me) I would get up an hour early each morning and put on music and just rock in my rocking chair for an hour before starting my day. I would first go through my whole day in my mind, much like a diver goes through his dive mentally before leaving the board. Then I would just talk with God – pointing out possible obstacles in my day that I would need his help with. Then I would move onto visions of myself in the future. I would picture me in college and later on being a teacher in the very same school I was heading off to in a few hours. My husband, back then, was absolutely the cutest and nicest boy in our class. Part of my future vision was being married to this captain of the football team boy, way in the future, after college. There, in that rocking chair, over the course of four years, my life took shape. My dreams were formed so solidly, it was impossible for them not to come true. It was almost like I wore them like I wore my clothes.
All of those dreams did come true. After college, I found myself married to that boy and a fourth grade teacher in that very same school. What I also found was that I still got up one hour early and rocked in my rocking chair. (I have to pause here to tell you that boy quickly found out rocking chairs were necessary for my survival and it was his job to make sure I had one in every room – even out by the pool. When I left for college, he bought me one for my dorm room and spent 4 years hauling it back and forth for me.) Every morning I'd still put my music on, and imagine my day in school with my students, pray, and now dream of the home and children I'd have in the nearer future with this boy.
Those dreams also came true. I then rocked, prayed, and dreamed in the early morning hours with beautiful baby girls in my arms, gazing out the window at a yard we actually owned. This sounds very idyllic, I know, but for that time, it had to be. I was building solidarity in my mind, and faith in my soul to raise theses girls and deal with all married life, parenthood, and a mortgage was going to throw our way.
As the girls grew, money was tight, days were long, communication between that boy and me was short, and I began sliding down the hill of "this is real life". Again, throughout these years, it was those early morning hours I spent in my rocking chair (and during particularly hard times, whole afternoons spent rocking outside by the pool) that saved all of us.
So, here I am today, living out still another dream vision that was born in my rocking chair 14 years ago – that of retiring here on Cape Cod, (this rocking chair, being the latest one that boy bought me for our 34th anniversary, is a real beauty!) and….I'm still getting up at 6 am, putting on VH1, visualizing my day, praying, and now dreaming of a future here in this house that may involve once again spending early morning hours in my rocking chair, with a baby in my arms. A dream of a new chapter of our lives invaded by new little people to capture our hearts in the coming years.
So here I sit, as the music plays in the background – every now and then a song gripping my heart and causing tears to spring as it reminds me of a loved one, and I suddenly realize I always possessed my very own kind of silence.
Through all of this, the constants were my rocking chairs, my music, my prayers, and my dreams. 15 minutes of silence to experience God and his teachings? What was I thinking? I had that all figured out when I was a kid of 14.
And so, as another day goes by, the 15 minutes of silence idea is put to bed, and …I have written.
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