Quietness of evening

 

I sat outside for a while after the sun set tonight, through twilight and into darkness. 

At first I was listening. There was lots of birdsong while there was still a bit of light and a blue sky. Not just insistent cardinals, but lots of different sound.

All day the sound of nail guns echoed through the neighborhood, as roofers replaced a roof across the street. They worked until it was dark and finished the job. The pounding faded to the sound of engines idling as they loaded their tools and ladders into a pickup and a van. One drove off, and a few minutes later, the other. I hope they went home to good suppers and people glad to see them.

The birds stopped. Silent dog walkers passed, bicyclists with their headlights glided down the middle of the street, passing an 8pm jogger. I listened to silence all around me and sounds of traffic in the distance. I breathed carefully as I tried to quiet my mind. 

News websites everywhere are full of stories about coming out of the pandemic. Personal growth stuff like how to hang onto the good habits that helped you hang on through the last year. Big picture stuff like has the nature of work changed for good? And much more, as they feed on each other. I click on headlines but seldom read to the end. 

I did follow one thing today all the way through, and I think it's what inspired my evening efforts at quiet: Who We Are Now, in the New York Times, with comments from readers about how they've been changed by the pandemic. Pretty photos float down the page with short quotes and a few longer stories from people who faced fears and worse and who seem to be deciding as they described their lives, to be okay. 

It's takes some work to be quiet, to listen and be still as the darkness falls. More than once I had to turn my phone off and over after restlessly clicking it on and looking for something to get the hit of dopamine. Thought for a minute about getting a bowl of cornflakes to help quiet my mind. (Helpful, I find, when awake at 3am.) I called my monkey mind back more than once to enjoy some peace and positivity before it wandered off again. And of course now, writing, I'm trying to experience that quiet again from my living room chair, wondering who I am now.