I exist in the quiet, in the empty, in the space where things aren’t yet.
I arrive early, sit, still and calm. Soon others will come, filling the place with their energy, their weekend plans, their silent brooding, their heavy thoughts and experiences and baggage and personality and agendas.
But for now, it is quiet.
I exist in the spaces between. In the hesitation before you speak, in the taking of breath, in the thinking time. I am the punctuation and the pause, the editing, the should I/ shouldn’t I. The gap between what you think and what you decide to say.
I exist in the quiet.
I’m drawn to activities that are inherently introspective. Distance running, yoga, writing, cooking. I am solitary yet social, never lonely but never alone. I believe in impossible possibilities and two-sided coins and shades of grey.
The quiet understands me, magnifies me, frightens me.
I exist in the quiet, but can’t help but add to the noise.