Noise

When the river is deepest it makes least noise -Italian Proverb

There is noise in my life; noise of a busy family. The dog barks, the kids cry and complain, and television blares competing with public radio, which runs endlessly in the kitchen. I am fighting to write and complete the book that I have started, but the noise keeps seeping in distracting me from my task. I know my muse is here and waits for me to sit and write, but the noise keeps her away.

The noise from the television shows my daughter chooses are all the same. It does not matter which show is on, the sound and tempo are identical. Today I had had enough, I asked her to turn off the TV, I needed to cut the noise. She turns the screen off and runs outside. The noise does not stop, but changes. I now hear her screaming and giggling with the neighborhood kids as they jockey over shared bicycles, trikes and wagons.

My son is too old to run with the neighborhood kids; he is in his room. The room is at the end of the hallway on the other side of the house from where I sit. It would seem that this separation could provide the silence I need, but he too makes noise. He clicks away on his computer while using face-time and Skype to chat with his friends. I hear each computer stroke. The cadence of his tempo is not as fast as the television show that eluded me before, but his activity bursts unexpectedly jarring my muse and frightening her away.

I need quiet. I need calm. I need the noise in my life to slow so that I can bury myself in the world my muse and I created. The world of Lovelost. I will busy myself with dishes now, in hopes that when the evening falls, the household will head for a long night of slumber and I will revel in silence to write and create.