Learning to sit with the silence

Dear Delyara, It has taken me nearly thirty years to realize that silence isn't an empty space that needs to be filled with noise, background television, or casual scrollings on my phone. Tonight, after the storm cleared, the entire flat fell completely still. My first instinct was to reach for my headphones, to find a podcast, or to look up project architectures to keep my mind occupied. Instead, I forced my hands to stay flat on the table. I just listened to the slow, steady hum of the refrigerator and the distant, muffled sound of traffic on the bypass. At first, my chest felt tight, like an engine running without oil. But after ten minutes, my heart rate slowed. The frantic urge to always be producing, planning, or building relaxed its grip. There is a strange, majestic dignity in just existing in a room without needing to justify your presence to anyone.