How wrapped up in my nostalgia you are. Layered with my childhood summer holidays, I have only to breathe in once and I am back there. I linger in the joy and feel of accomplishment and adulthood like never before. I whirl past the awkwardness, pushing away when i tried to hold his hand and he held me… aloft. Away. Alone. Distant. Misunderstood.
Was it with you that I learnt my most defining characteristic? Possibly. I acknowledged you as a study in silence. How completely you allow people to make of you what they will.
I attempted to steal your nonchalance once, but only walked away with the silence. A useful tool but only when you know how to use it.
June, what Ive learnt is that silence is only any good to others when it is used to listen. And only useful to ourselves when we stretch into it and give it time to do its work.
At various points of my life I have tried to perfect the art of silence.
Silence is a tool that can be used for both good and ill. The few regrets I have in my life all stem from moments that I chose not to be silent and wielded powerful and painful words. The guilt of it still closes in and makes me shudder.
I write to you now to acknowledge the space and weight of silence. You mark a halfway point that allows me to breathe in and out. And that act allows me to focus on the silence. To stop and take stock. Not just on the future. Not just on the past. But on the present as well.
Breathe in. What do I have? Breathe out.
Breathe in. Who have I become? Breathe out.
Breathe in. What am I most grateful for? Breathe out.
Until next time,
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