The week I spent in silence

Recently, I found myself thinking about my thoughts. I’m pretty sure this is called metacognition, but after several ethics and philosophy courses, which did little more than confuse the heck out of me, I am not entirely sure. On Sunday afternoon, probably inspired by a particularly strong case of the Sunday Blues, I realized that my thought life has been overwhelmingly chaotic and disordered lately. As I contemplated why I haven’t been as introspective as I usually am [I suppose this is a bit of an oxymoron], I realized that moments of silence are almost non-existent in my life these days. I felt tired of just floating through my days mindlessly, & I decided in that moment that this week would be different. Since I am unable to drastically rearrange my schedule, I confronted different options for how I would spend more time in conscious thought:

11.  Wake up earlier to spend time reading and writing down my thoughts

22.  Use driving time [which is usually used for LOUD music time] for silence

33. Cut out a chunk of mindless internet/social media time just to sit & think

While I truly would love to do all of these things in some form, I chose number 2 for practical, measurable purposes. For anyone who knows me, I love music. I listen to it from the moment I wake up until the moment I fall asleep. Car time for me = music time, & the fastest way I will generally bond with someone is through a mutual appreciation for music. Spending an entire week in silence in the car was a fairly significant commitment for me. 

Here’s what I’ve learned:

Sometimes, when I get the chance to be alone with my thoughts for long enough, I am crippled by how palpable they become. In those moments, I am reminded of a Jon Foreman song that has the words,

“…when all of her nightmares grew fingers & all of her dreams grew tears …”

I remember the first time I heard that song. I actually got chills during those words because in that moment, he just knew me. I got chills not because I related to those specific personifications of abstract things, but rather because my own fears and dreams are that real sometimes, & I was thankful that Jon Foreman was able to articulate it in such an eerily beautiful way.

When I think about my thoughts, I am sometimes frightened by my own reflection. I could honestly give myself a headache in about two minutes of just rabbit-trailing my own brain, but I am simultaneously excited by the fact that I am capable of creating an entire world within my own mind. This week, I confronted thoughts of hopefulness for this new season of life. I confronted fears that felt so real, so human in my mind, that I swear they were sitting in the passenger seat next to me. I was able to confront them in the silence, & it was good.