Too Damn Quiet

My wonderful husband and I spent the 4^th of July weekend at our small cabin in the woods.  The first two days were cool, breezy and mosquito free.  We sat on our deck; he smoked his cigars, I read a book or magazine.  We didn’t talk much—didn’t need to, I guess – and even Shasha, our typically barky little Shit-Zhu, was relatively relaxed.

Then it hit us.  It was too damn quiet.

You never really think about how noisy kids are even when they are subdued.  But they are:  it’s like their force field vibrates with the unbridled energy of youth, constantly producing a soft hummmmmm that is always, always part of the surface of things.  Add to that loud laughter, sulky complaints or the occasional shouting match common to kids of all ages, and you realize how mighty their maelstrom of sound truly is.

When that sound reaches a roar, adults close their eyes, sigh and hunger for what they’ve lost:  Peace.  Silence.  QUIET.

Until they find it again, when the kids are gone…for days…and that silence starts to feel…edgy.

Now my husband might disagree with me about this:  he craves and, in fact, needs periods of quiet; really noisy noise makes him borderline uncomfortable, which is why I’ve not always understood his affinity for Jimi Hendrix, for example.  Not a complaint about Hendrix – I like much of his stuff – but some of his music is really, really noisy.  (Which I think was the effect he was going for, of course).

As for me, I like “loud” and always have – loud music, loud TV, loud laughter, loud talking.  This is, in part, because my hearing isn’t what it used to be.  Loud gets my attention and keeps me moving.  And then, of course, I'm also from New York originally (which explains a lot, my husband would say).

Sometimes, though, silence is important too – particularly when I’m feeling angry or frustrated and need to think things through.  Generally speaking, though, the noisier a household is, the better – it feels alive.

Back to our cabin weekend:  it was much too quiet without our daughter’s ambient sound shaking us out of our semi-stupor.  When it was time for us to go home, I was ready. 

So home we are now, and settled back into our routines.  As I sit today writing this, I realize that I need some joyful noise in my life while my daughter is away at camp.  My husband must need some too, as he’s just suggested we go to a neighborhood pool for a swim after work.

Splish, splash.  The slap of David’s hand hitting the water hard so that it squirts into my face. Intentionally.

Kids squealing in the background.  A mother telling her son to “knock it off.”  Yes!!   

That will do nicely…for now.