My breath sounded loud in my head.

One more step. Breathe out. One more step. Breathe in.

The rhythm of my feet was the only sound I heard.

The gravel road stretched out in front of me. It’s one of those perfect days. When the sun is just beginning to sink and the sky is that blue-pink, birds are singing their good night song and small animals run around in the silence.

Too much. I put my head phones on and flipped to a song and pushed play.

I thought I needed noise.

“Breathe. Just breathe.” I repeated. Because I didn’t want the silence.

I grew up in BFE. That comes with a lot of perks that not everyone understands or experiences.

Silence.

The crunch of tires on the gravel, birds chirping in warm spring days and the movement of humans and animals. They all came together as their own sound track.

No music. No horns honking.

Silence.

My shoes picking up their own rhythm as I picked up my pace. Enjoying the view. Watching the birds.

I push past another song.

I didn’t want silence. I would have to be alone with my thoughts.

Ugh not this song. I hit next. Next.

I watch the sun sink deeper into horizon. Finally fed up with the lack of a decent play list, I shove off my head phones.

Silence.

It greets me. It surrounds me. It makes me stop and really look around.

I smile at the wind blowing through the grass. The one bunny that looks as startled to see me as I am to see him.

I start to walk again. The cadence of my feet adding to nature’s sound track. My mind isn’t racing. I can feel myself start to relax.

Because sometimes it isn’t more noise we need, it’s less.

Silence.

A lot of us are afraid to sit in the silence. It feels painful. Like someone is pushing stick pins into your skin. Your mind playing the best of ‘you’re a screw up and this is why side A track two.’

Silence.

I look up. The silence isn’t so scary. I know it isn’t permanent. I know that when my mind likes to hit play on that sad pathetic bullshit, I know there is the B side. The highlight reel. The ‘best of’ sound track.

Silence.

It means I told the bullshit committee to take a seat. I have learned how strong I am, how amazing and how truly bad ass.

I pull the headphones off and stick them in my pocket.

I want to listen to the silence.