A couple days ago, Goddess Taige wrote about the need for peace and quiet--particularly when we've just reached a tense point in the book we're reading (or writing).
I'm willing to bet that none of us can remember the last time we had perfect silence. I'm not sure there's any such thing any longer--if there ever was. Even when the kids are out of the house, the TV and radio are off, and we're alone with ourselves, there's always something: cars going by outside, a siren, a dog barking, the hum of some appliance or other. In the office, it's our colleagues talking in the hallway, the fluorescent lights, the computers and printers and fax machines.
Some people seem to fear silence--they always have the TV or radio turned on even if they're not paying attention to it, or they have to talk even when there's no one there to listen to them. But I find myself craving it more and more. I think it's a backlash against the world as it has become, so full of noise and rush and movement.
I have to find a way to make my own silences, to not contribute to the noise and rush and movement that sometimes seem to be tearing our societies apart. Larger peace, symbolic silence, can only come when individuals cultivate it within themselves.