Quiet Thoughts

An Essay by Gil French

 

Some people can’t stand quiet. They must be surrounded at all times by some variety of noise. Much of that noise has been given the name “music” although it still sounds like noise to me. These listeners have a radio, boom box, ear plugs, television or some other form of transmission on and at their fingertips at all times. No matter what else they may be doing. This is not a recent occurrence, I know of cases many years back. Some young (at that time) people I know (they happened to be my children) when doing their homework would park themselves in front of a television set with volume turned up, with a radio assaulting their ears, also with volume turned up, and do their homework, all at the same time. I might add that they all did extremely well in school. I wonder if they would have done better if someone had prevented them from doing their homework in that environment.

I remember, with great displeasure having to endure, as a youngster, many quiet times. As young school children, my sisters and I were required to do our homework at the dining room table. This had a chandelier above it with a number of globes that cast enough light but little shadow. These homework sessions did not always go smoothly. Someone always wanted more room or more light or more silence. The silence part was especially difficult since I had a habit of humming to myself whenever I was gainfully and successfully employed or grumbling, inaudibly, I thought, when my efforts were not so successfully employed. My sisters did not enjoy my tastes in music nor my delivery of it and would complain to my mother, who always took their side but was gentle in her admonitions.

These days I no longer work at the dining room table. I have my own room that I call my “office”, in which I spend a lot of time but mostly avoiding “office” work. I call my work, “creative writing”, but I don’t really do a vast amount of writing there. Mostly I stare vacantly at a blank wall and think about getting started. After I have stared for a while I turn toward my computer and decide to begin writing. After staring at my keyboard without touching a key I go back to staring at the wall for another shot of inspiration, which will also soon vaporize. Many futile hours are spent alternating between staring at the wall and staring at my computer screen without writing an actual word. Fortunately I am not easily given to frustration. I have managed to live with myself a rather long time and hope to continue the process for a while longer.

Sometimes being quiet takes an enormous amount of effort.  One might think that keeping one’s mouth shut would be easy; all you have to do is not open it, right? Ha! When the urge to speak hits, it hits hard. We all know how those urges are. When they raise their ugly heads we are usually forced to give in.  The urge to speak your mind is an especially dominating one. It feeds our egos, some of which have ravenous appetites in need of constant and immediate attention.  Egos, as we all know, can be extremely demanding and unrelenting. Feed them, or else. You don’t want to have to put up with their revenge.

Silence can sometimes be disturbing. Quiet folks appear to be unusually observant. It’s acceptable to be observant and talkative. But keen of eye and sparing of speech can be disturbing to those of us who are neither so observant nor so reticent. Stalwart and trustworthy citizens tend to prefer the outgoing, the gregarious and the vocal.  We feel much safer and secure around them because we have some notion of their inner thoughts. We are more trusting of the loquacious and more suspicious of those whose thoughts present a mystery. Remember, dear reader, to let your thoughts flow freely: I promise I will try and do the same.

In spite of the public support and appreciation of openness, the world is much in need of quiet thought. Many of the good and wonderful things that have happened to our human family have sprung from the brains of quiet people. The great music, the marvelous literature, the inspiring poetry, the world-changing inventions all have their origins in the brains of people who were quiet, at least at the time they produced their marvels. A silent voice can create a fertile canvas for a creative mind. Sometimes the most eloquent words are those that remain unspoken.

782 words