The Milks ventured out yesterday to leafy Kent for an indoor picnic (aka the car) and a short walk. It was drizzling a little as we parked the car. Tummys full of cheese sandwiches we began our stroll down the hill from the carpark. As we meandered our way through the forest something happened to me that I cannot fully explain, except to say that I suddenly felt light. A feeling of weightlessness as if my physical body had lost stones, and the neck pain that had been haunting me for days disappeared. My mind that usually zooms around at 100 mph, speeding uncontrollably this way and that like Potter’s golden snitch , was suddenly and curiously still. Restful. And as I breathed in the icy air, slowly, in exaggerated breaths, it suddenly hit me. Silence. Total, unadulterated, astonishing silence.
You don’t appreciate the level of noise you live with on a daily basis, until it’s no longer there. No more so than for a hardened city dweller like myself. Awakened by the piercing alarm call at an hour unsuited to our body clocks. As the kettle hisses into life and the toaster pings, we listen to the blare of the radio reporting the morning news. Small children screaming for toast, wimpering and whining as they pull on the knees of your pyjamas. The slam of the front door as you leave for work, following the hoot of the traffic as it careers through the city streets. The rattle of the train speeding into Charing Cross. On your right a suited man rustles and thwackes his paper, straightening its edges. On your left, a teenager listens to his ipod at an insensitive volume. By the time we reach our destination we have experienced a cacophony of sounds, a war waged on all our senses.
I sometimes wonder whether it is this constant stimulation that is at the root of much of my anxiety, my low moods, my frustrations. Is the human body simply not equipped to deal with this level of aural bombardment, reacting with dangerously high levels of adrenalin, preparing to flee and fight, if not in body then in mind?
Was this what Jesus experienced in his 40 days and 40 nights in the desert? An inner calm, weightlessness, introspection fuelled by the absence of any sensory interaction.
I know I felt enlightened today, and it was really quite wonderful.
Posts like this remind me how lucky I am to live in the quiet Yorkshire countryside. Although it’s not so fun when it snows and everyone is stuck for days..
You certainly are, Mr Milk and I are now developing our 3-step plan to life in the suburbs ;<)
‘Tis one of the reasons I moved from the UK to Australia. The abundance of space, and subsequent availability of quiet & calm.
We are 7 miles to the city centre. But we live on 200 acres of bush, on the very edge of leafy suburbia. Best of all worlds.
I walk with nature daily and her paths are utter peace. Of mind.
I hope you can find a lot more of it for you and yours…
so true my friend, so true. me and Mr Milk will be aiming to find that balance in the next few years.
Funny isn’t it. When I lived in the west country I couldn’t bear the silence. I found it quite oppressive.
Perhaps it’s the associations you have with it?
This is an excellent post to read at the start of a new year H. I’m going to take a leaf out of your ‘quiet’ book.We seem to feel that unless we are rushing either in body, mind or spirit, we are failing. The world is a beautiful place – we need to take some time to look! Thanks H!
Pleasure. Glad you liked it.
We noticed the silence as soon as we returned to our Native N Yorkshire from berkshire. I have to admit I do live in a mad house 90% of the time, but love the peace when the boys are out or at school and I dont even put the radio on
i’m so used to the noise that my natural instinct is to switch the tele or the radio on whenever i’m alone. I don’t seem to know what’s good for me sometimes.
Re the small children whining, my kids went to montessori for a while and its a quiet place. There’s a silence sign that the children go and get when it gets too loud, and I find it really difficult to be with groups of kids without that background. Not that it cut out *all* the shouting at home, but it dropped the overall volume.
now why didn’t i know about that ;<)
YES!!!! YES!!!!
I find that when I am alone without the children, with nowhere I need to be, I feel so normal and happy and free… and then as soon as the noise levels increase… I am back to being tense, irritated and stressy. Peace and silence, so hard to come by. Better than drugs but oh so hard to come by!!
Happy new year my friend. Great post.
xx
I’m so happy to see you back here Simone. Happy new year to you.
x
You’re absolutely right. I’ve been moaning about wanting to move back into the city, but then I also insist on no radio during the day and no music in the car because I crave silence after being with three children all day. Maybe I should rethink the city idea.