The Arrival of Calm

A great fear, wounded orphans, brutal interpretations and the arrival of a new visitor. 

Music by Scott Holmes - A Wee Tipple 
Non Copyright Music 

Transcript

Speaker 0:08

It began with one instruction I was given. I was not to initiate conversation. And in walking out that one instruction, my eyes were open to a harsh reality in my world that was almost too much to look at. My eyes still water at the thought of it, and that reality continues to this day. In the past five years, silence has wrapped itself more tightly around me than I could have ever imagined. Often so thick it threatened to suffocate the life out of me. It was a silence that often screamed. The ending of many things were marked with silence, one situation after another. It was almost as if a notice had been sent out, terminating all communication, all contact with me. Warning, this human has been cut off due to performance issues. Do not engage. It was isolating, cutting, and completely devastating. I had no idea that this silence, my greatest fear, would become such a defining factor of my life. This all encompassing silence created a vacuum of sorts, an empty space I could not avoid, and within it I came face to face with the starving, lost, crazed orphans that lived in the darkest regions of my heart. I had forgotten they existed, but though forgotten, they interpreted every experience I had, and most certainly they interpreted the silence. They had meant to be named defended, protected, and cherished, but now they lived as orphans, known as accusation, betrayal, and abandonment. Along with them, their messages were brutal. You are forgotten. It's easy to leave you behind. Loved? Not possible. You're not good enough to be deeply loved. Cherished, adored, fought for? Of course not. You're only meant to be used, then quickly dismissed when no longer found useful. At first, I went numb with shock at the intensity of my unmet need, then wept for years, wrecked by the overwhelming evidence scattered all around, pointing to what had always felt true. At times I had even dared to believe the messages were lies, but the messages continued their assault. You will never be chosen. You will never be allowed to stay, and no one will ever stay. Day after day, month after month, and assuredly I tell you, year after year, layers and layers of silence wrapped itself around my world, heightening the sound of the desperate orphans within me, who were clamoring and demanding they belong. All I could do was endure their torturous chanting, endlessly letting go of needing life to be different. It was like bleeding out, daily dying to the pressing need for belonging, a tortured slow death of attachment, overcome with pain and grief each time my need for love and for belonging was pounded to a cross I did not ask for. But then, ever so slowly, the hungry waifs began to fade. They were no longer being fed by the lies. I no longer had strength to do that. And slowly over time, the only sound left was a sound of my own heart-wrenching cries, which then too slowly began to fade. I lay helpless on the ground, my body exhausted from long sleepless nights and gut-wrenching days, no longer attempting to make an escape. Primal, raw and naked, grief seeping through the skin, curled in a fetal position, hurt lay in puddles all around me. I did not know what would happen next. In fact, I did not believe there was a next. But then over time I sensed a new visitor. At first I couldn't see, only felt this new presence somehow through the silence. It was calm. And then I watched through swollen blurred vision as Calm moved around, quietly picking up every piece of evidence strewn all around. Evidence of being forgotten, of being left easily behind. Calm read every story, studied every photo, then stacked them on top of each other. And then Calm turned to face me, with the evidence neatly piled all around throughout the room, placing full attention on this messy human heap on the floor. And there Calm stood, saying nothing, while somehow over time infiltrated every corner of my heart and every fiber of my being. And I finally slept. Silence continues to be a daily experience. Except for now, so is calm. I do not know what will come from this world of silence or what I will learn from it. It is easy to write about an experience after the fact. Hindsight is 2020. But I'm not so sure there will be an after the fact, and there's something to be said for getting really honest while we're in the middle of something. I'm still not a fan of silence, probably never will be, nor of the majority of quotes heralding its virtues. However, there are two I can identify with and know to be true. The first one is by Ezra Taft Benson. Some of the greatest battles will be fought within the silent chambers of your own soul. And Gandhi said, It is better in prayer to have a heart without words than words without a heart.