I Hear Music In the Silence

A Secret, Sacred Serenade

Photo by Tyler Lastovich on Unsplash

There’s music where it’s not supposed to be.

There is no radio on. There’s no television. No phone playing iTunes, Spotify, or YouTube. The lights are dimmed and nightlights on; the doors are locked; the pillow is perfectly fluffed, and I’m half asleep on it when I hear the sounds from beyond the veil.

It has always been this way. I do not have a reference of a time that I did not hear the secret, sacred serenade.

It changes — the sound. It’s never the same twice. Sometimes, there are voices. Other times, it’s instrumental. Sometimes it’s soft sounds like John Denver, and other times it’s like ZZ Top or Van Halen. I hear Abba. I hear a church choir. Humming.

I do not listen to music. Ever. I do not have the television on. Ever. I do not subscribe to any streaming services at all — audio or visual. I appreciate a silent world, save for the clicks on the keyboard or the crunch of popcorn as I nestle into my Kindle. Silence.

I need silence.

Sound triggers me.

I once wrote on social media that I wondered if my cat was bothered by the lack of sound. If she knew there could be more fulfillment for her ears, or if she craved the quietude as much as I do.

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