What is it about this almost complete silence? The 3 a.m. hush, save the once in a while furnace hum or swoosh of the blanket covering my feet, interrupted only by the light of a very early moon sleeping through slotted shades. It is a quitely mood. “Quitely” the best I have in my inventory of wonderful words to soften, even more, the mood of the moment. It is peaceful being here during this cold morning in February.
I didn’t find myself here, on this sofa, by chance. It’s by design … an unfortunate design of mis-alignment in spinal bone-age. Nothing too serious, just a small irritating annoyance. This sofa hugs my body better than a bed during times of hurty. And, of course, it is closer to a refrigerator full with humus, celery, and salad dressing (singular). Oh, wait. I believe there’s an apple in there as well.
We need these places. To think. Perhaps to meditate if so inclined. I need this space. Not necessarily to write about it, but to experience the quitely-ness within it. All of us do. For me, however, most times I do necessarily have to fill the time tapping words into the bright light breaking the darkness.
So many ideas and inspirations have blossomed from this early morning / late night recline. Time well spent healing a bad set of spine parts and exercising a brain wanting to show itself, and others, a pathway to the whys in life. Many unanswered, dusty writings sit in the queue awaiting the call. I revisit the casting couch to re-audition the wannabes every month and find them embracing the same attitudes … bitter, joyous, thankful, sarcastic, funny, etc… Not surprising since I’m the one responsible for their mood in the first place. Most will stay undiscovered, I’m glad to say. The editing process too involved and their agents too demanding.
This sofa. This couch of possibilities. Early morning writings in the queue and ones making the bright lights of fame among the stars. Parumph! (Oh, just for effect … that was the trash man disturbing the hush as he picked up the trash for the week).
There are the moments, undisturbed, when quitely opens up a door and in walks an undiscovered star in the making. A raw set of words jumbled on the floor in front of the casting couch. She weeps because life hasn’t been kind to her. A chance to be seen, to be heard, to once again be whole is all she wants. Her hand punches through the almost complete silence beside my sofa when I am here and open for auditions. As with all directors I assume, the mood has to be right and the lighting just so.
It is so peaceful here. I know … it’s worth repeating. Fortunately, today is looking like a good day. Sofa, so good, right?
Find your sofa place. A place to audition the ideas and dreams you have for your life. A weary bone resting couch to ease the worries life rests upon your shoulders. Where can you blanket yourself to get warm? Where can you enjoy only a 3 a.m. hum and nothing else? Where is the moon for you and you alone?
Answers are not easy. Especially from a guy who doesn’t take his own advice 99% of the time. These sofa times are easy to write, harder to live. That’s why they’re special. If every day, not so much … I wouldn’t even be writing about them. So ….
… Time to enjoy the moments away from the bright light of stardom, or a cell phone…. and take in the welcoming peek of a moonlit morning through the shade … during a quitely nice early morning in February.