The healing of silence

The news of serious health challenges to friends and family was assaulting us from all directions, one in particular requiring my husband’s direct management. While encouraged by the release of a corona virus vaccine, we enter the next phase with anxiety: the anticipation of its distribution. Meanwhile, the normal stress of the winter holidays, whatever one celebrates, is heightened by the repercussions of the pandemic. We struggle to elicit joy among distress.


Living in a multi-family household has many challenges and rewards. Blessed to watch our grandsons mature into young adults, the sulkiness of adolescence can seem endless. Silence, one of my basic needs, is a challenge rarely awarded.

My nephew and his lovely wife ventured out of state, allowing time to quarantine before enjoying the holidays with her family. I jumped at the opportunity to occupy their remarkable guest house. This is my ideal she-shed. It is spacious, comfortable, well-furnished. But most remarkably, quiet. I came here to write and am finding the respite therapeutic. I may keep the key.

At home, although I can isolate in my room all day, being alone in the house is rare. There is an added dimension to “owning” your space and your time, knowing that you can wander freely, uninterrupted. From the response to another blog post, I know many women yearn for this freedom. Whereas noise paralyzes, silence is enervates

The term “self-actualization” comes to mind. In silence, I climb Maslow’s hierarchy to achieve fulfillment. With fulfillment comes peace of mind, energy, joy. Silence is golden.

Author: Mary Cornelius

I am an aging woman who writes three blogs.