Can't remember where I was when I saw this show, Silent Library. It is a teen-age hi-jinks Japanese-style game. Contestants are groups of teen-age boys (were there girls too?) that have to perform silly/loud/disgusting acts as quietly as possible.
I think of this show when I am tip-toeing around the house while Ana sleeps. I have the luxury of being alone with Ana. I can be as quiet as I want! I realize that in order to be cat-burglar quiet I have to listen to all of the noises I make and reduce them. I find that going slowly reduces the amount of noise I make dramatically. I have to find the "middle way" between the sound-producing objects. It is a meditative task.
Ana hears everything. Not just when she is taking her nap. She hears things that I take for granted, like a chair scraping on the kitchen floor, or a screw dropping on the concrete workshop floor. Her language can imitate the sounds, almost parrot-like. I have thought more than once how fascinating it would be to have a baby parrot that is developing language raised with a baby human that is developing language. I am realizing how much of her language development is for me to listen to. I imitate her, not she from me. Then we develop our own language. She has scolded me for trying to interject words for a sound she is making! I am learning to hear again!
Also Micah helped me realize that we don't hold onto her, she holds onto us and we support her. We have been talking a lot about "trapping" recently. What does it mean to "trap someone." Do we sometimes feel trapped? We support each other instead of trapping each other.
I am realizing that we cannot teach children patience. Children help us to learn patience. They teach us how to be patient. They teach us to stop yelling. If the sound of yelling in my ears hurts my mind, then I must stop yelling, no matter what. I can handle it when someone yells in my ears. I choose not to yell back, because that hurts my mind too. I choose not to do things that hurt myself.
Having a moment of silence every day helps in ways beyond knowing. If I can have just a moment, a breath, without any noise, it grounds me. If I can listen to a whole song on Pandora, then I feel energized. I snatch the moments when I can. The luxury to write a blog entry is keenly felt and realized. Alone time is spent in delicious silence whenever possible. As Frances says, "I think I need some me-myself-alone time."