Everyday Music

I have never found silence to be peaceful. When the air is empty, I am uneasy. My old house in Denton was recently built and well-insulated, so nothing creaked and noises rarely made it through the walls. It drove me to madness a time or two, pacing around, praying that someone would come home and let me hear the sounds of living once again.

But now I find myself surrounded by everyday noise. I wake up next to a beautiful boy, and I listen to him get ready for work; the rustling of clothes, the water in the sink, the blessed sounds of him turning on the coffeepot for me. When he leaves, I can hear his truck start and pull away.

For a moment, there is a slight silence, but it is soon replaced by the sounds of the world waking up. The birds begin their chirping, and cars start to drive by. When 7am rolls around, the shops are open. People greet each other. The restaurant next door bustles.

I walk to work at the college, and I'm further surrounded by the din of life. The telephones ring, and the office chatter is fueled by an undercurrent of printers and slamming doors.

My favorite commotion by far is working at the music store. Whether it be lessons or people trying out instruments, my hours are filled with music, and all of it is beautiful. Little boys and girls are just learning to pluck their first notes, while in the main room a seasoned musician strums his favorite chords. Sometimes, there's even an impromptu jam session or sing-along. Those are my favorite days.

Evenings are filled with familiar rehearsal noises, the sounds of techies working, sets being built, the actors tromping across the stage.

The too-short time I spend at home after rehearsal but before bed contains the beautiful sounds of our lives, so varied but familiar that it makes me sigh with happiness. There's the noise of at least one of us cooking dinner, if not both; the pop hiss of a beer bottle being opened, followed by a refreshed "ahh"; the whole house creaks and reacts as we walk and shift; the sounds of a video game being played, almost always accompanied by a beautiful voice saying "Oh shit, I fucked up the mission again"; the deep, contented sigh of another day done as we crawl into bed; the steady sound of his breathing when his mind finally shuts down for the night.

I'm no longer plagued by the sad silence that lets my mind wander into dark and unforgiving thoughts. My life is beautiful, and filled with the music that most people take for granted.