Ellemental

One night a few years ago I woke up in the middle of the night. I very rarely have sleeping problems, so I didn’t really know what to do with my wide-awake self at 2:20 am. So I just plumped the pillows, rearranged the blankets and waited to fall back asleep. Before falling back asleep I realized that I was surrounded by complete silence. Complete. No cars passing, no floor creaks, no airplains overhead. Complete silence. I listened harder – there had to be SOME sound – but at the same time I slowed my breathing and prayed that I wouldn’t cough or shift the blankets. I didn’t want to break the silence. It sounds silly, but that was one of those teeny tiny moments in my life that stuck with me. The silence was unexpectedly BIG, and I was in awe of it.

Last week I woke up to find the VIM’s arm hooked across my midsection and his face buried in my neck. I layed (laid? lie? argh!) there for a minute or two trying to find that perfect silence again. It wasn’t going to happen. Every few seconds there was a soft breath from the VIM, then the furnace kicked on. Too much going on. What I DID find, however, was a perfect feeling of contentment. I wasn’t thinking about how tired I was going to be in the morning, I wasn’t thinking about things we said the night before. I was just perfectly happy to be exactly where I was at that moment. Again, the feeling was so much bigger than I expected it to be that I was in awe.

If I had to chose between a handful of extravagant, enviable, high-profile, once-in-a-lifetime moments or a lifetime of quiet (almost silent) moments to make my own, I’ll take the latter every time.