The sound of silence is a feeling, a stillness, rather than just a quiet. I have tinnitus and so I hear a tone, even when there are no other sounds. I’m in my living room and can hear the fridge. I hear a distant lawnmower, and the occasional car going by. But the house is quiet.

I remember a trip with my dad to southern Nevada, we split apart in a wooded area, it was close to noon and very hot. There was no wind and no sound, too hot even for bugs I guess. That was a real silence. I’ve heard that a few times at night in winter as well. Snow seems to absorb sound. I can remember going for a walk once in the snow and pausing after realizing my footsteps were the only sound being made. I stopped and heard a deafening silence, a void of any noise, and again it was a feeling more than just a lack of sound.

In our busy lives we sometimes forget to be still, to be quiet, to let silence happen. People leave the TV on for company, listen to music, even whistle a tune. I listen to books or podcasts. We fill the void of silence rather than let it envelope us. But sometimes, sometimes the opportunity for silence should be sought after, seized, for the sake of just feeling silence. Not just hearing it, feeling it. It’s not easy to find, my ear tones on, the fridge hums, a car goes by… but when I find it, my body knows.

The sound of silence is a feeling, not a sound.