Hello noise, my old friend.

Now that winter break is over, I have resumed back to my daily life of clamor: chatter in the school hallways, music playing constantly in my room, rings and pings from the phone and computer, et cetera, et cetera.

The sounds of silence seem to be of the distant past, just like privacy or paying attention to one thing at a time. My newly acquired iPhone—thanks, Mom and Dad!—can buzz to notify me numerous updates in my apparently eventful life. Such time-and-soul-sucking gizmos and gimmicks conspire to keep our eyes glued to them, monitoring our friends’ activities and recording our own. Why do we bother? For all we know, we are most likely missing everything, thinking we’ll miss nothing.
I didn’t reflect on the beauty of silence until my winter break. It began with me, bored home alone, flipping channels on the television. Nothing had really grabbed my attention until I came across a black-and-white silent film.

I was transfixed. In those three hours of stillness, I picked up the muted messages from actors that spoke volumes, subtleties I’ve never bothered with. The fluttering of her eyelashes. The raising of his eyebrow. The slow path a pair of eyes traveled. Did I not see past the booms, bangs and gripping orchestral music in modern movies? I immensely enjoyed the film, taking it as an opportunity to let me hear absolutely nothing for once. Except perhaps the sound of me breathing, which certainly freaked me out a little.

With that being my day one of break, I proceeded to spend the following days reading, studying and sitting in a 12-hour car ride in silence. It was as if all the disarray in my mind had vanished and left me in a serene state. I cherished this tune instead of my raucous dubstep, trance and indie rock music. My family noted the tranquil ambiance our household gained, and thanked me for not playing the “cacophony” they detest.

Although I had spent an inordinate, but healthy amount of time without sound, I realize that unfortunately, I do have to crawl out of my hermit shell and assimilate back to the hustle bustle of the every day at some point. That point being the start of second semester. Afraid that I’ll be sucked back into my addicting electronics ableeping and ablurping, I’ve been spending more time in the library to do homework. There I can have none of that static and work efficiently.

I was thinking in calculus class about how the number 0 is like silence. People disregard both of them as nothing, literally too, but they are actually very powerful. So don’t disregard, embrace the silence. After all, “silence is golden.”