Thre is no greater sound than the cacophony of childish giggles, yells and squeals. It is the sound of life living.
But there is no sweeter sound than the seconds after they all run out the door……a stampede of squealing, shouting shoe-searching, coat catching, that leaves a wake of pure, blissful, unadulterated silence. A silence so powerful it can knock you over.
It is rare, and all the sweeter for that. But, apart from being a mere pleasant moment that most parents at some points have sighed, “ah, peace.” I wonder is it actually good for us?
I find myself increasingly searching silence. I used to relish the rare moments of being in the car by myself and slot my favourite CD on, blasting it loud and singing songs that didn’t have the words ‘bus’, ‘star’, or ‘baby.’ But now? I turn off the cd player and listen to a blasting of silence. I no longer have the TV in the background in the eveing while I potter round doing odd jobs. I potter in peace. I sometimes even take it a step further. I lie in bed sometimes and put my book down and just lie there. Awake, in the moment, taking a little moment to be, slightly amazed and bewildered that no-one is talking to me.
Damn. I must be getting old. I’ll be telling them to turn down the music next.