What I learned in preschool: The sound of silence at 3 am is deafening

The witching hour.

Regardless of when this gets published, I began typing this at 3:30 am on a Saturday night (Sunday morning?)

A time of day that I rarely see on purpose. I’ve slowly turned into a night owl again. Usually I prefer to be in bed by 10 pm most nights, with an alarm perpetually set for 6:30 am. And even without an alarm, my body still likes to wake me up around 7:00 am just for fun. But recently I’ve been getting to bed later and later. I need to fix this.

Usually I only see 3 am if I’m tossing and turning unable to sleep or stumbling through the apartment to find the bathroom. So when these nights happen where I’m awake this late intentionally, I almost enjoy them. Almost.

As crazy and chaotic as it is being in a school where kids are literally playing on the playground or running around outside until it gets too dark to see, the moments of pure silence always catch me off guard.

Like tonight.

I shut my computer off, which turned the music off, which made the apartment seem very suddenly aware of itself. I didn’t like it.

There are no cars honking or rumbling by outside, the birds have long since stopped chirping, and all the neighbors are tucked away for the night. The railroad crossing sounds have stopped and the alarm for the pedestrian crossing signals are finished for the day. It is quiet.

And it makes me think.

I’ve been doing a lot of that lately.

Its terrible, I don’t recommend it for long periods of time because it makes your brain hurt. I’ve been thinking about my next steps, and I think the more council I receive, the more I’m slowly creating a thought about what comes next for me.

These quiet moments are a bit unearthly, a bit alien almost, to me. There’s something about the lack of noise and energy that’s unsettling. We are constantly bombarded with the lights and sounds of our daily lives that it’s easy to just become numb to it all. We hear so many things passively throughout the day that, for me at least, it all sort of turns into a bland background soundtrack that I’ve come to associate as a symptom of simply being awake.

So to be sitting on my bed typing this at a time of day that so few people are experiencing with me, makes the world seem a little bit bigger. A little bit more mysterious. Those of us that are awake, for whatever reason, we’re all sharing this hour that isn’t meant to be shared with everyone like the way 3:30 pm is.

I’m not sure this has anything remotely to do with preschool, but I felt this had to be written right now, as I was experiencing it. This is the “non-time” time that exists between days; where yesterday isn’t quite over, but tomorrow hasn’t exactly stared yet.

This isn’t a time meant for everyone and I am going to take my leave before I overstay my welcome.

Goodnight.

5 thoughts on “What I learned in preschool: The sound of silence at 3 am is deafening

  1. Dad

    OK! Given it’s Halloween season this has the making of a really interesting horror story! Maybe you should flesh it out … who knows maybe you have a best seller on your hands!

    Liked by 1 person

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