Silence is beautiful. Silence is relaxing. It's comforting. It promotes self reflection. It gives you a minute to let go of what's going on in the world so you can focus on fixing yourself.
I was born and raised in a town where silence was an everyday thing. In fact, it was so regular that I never really noticed how much I loved it (needed it) until I moved to Egypt, where silence is difficult to come by. There is never a truly quiet moment where you can just fade into the depths of your own mind, unless you're in a deep, undisturbed sleep. There is always someone yelling, screaming, or crying outside. There is always someone yelling, screaming, or crying inside. There is always someone playing loud music in the middle of the night. There is always someone constructing more villas. There is always something. Even now, as I sit here, approaching 2am, there are young boys playing soccer outside in the middle of the street.
I miss silence. Silence is beautiful. Silence is precious. And here, in Cairo, it's a rare privilege. Maybe too rare.
I was born and raised in a town where silence was an everyday thing. In fact, it was so regular that I never really noticed how much I loved it (needed it) until I moved to Egypt, where silence is difficult to come by. There is never a truly quiet moment where you can just fade into the depths of your own mind, unless you're in a deep, undisturbed sleep. There is always someone yelling, screaming, or crying outside. There is always someone yelling, screaming, or crying inside. There is always someone playing loud music in the middle of the night. There is always someone constructing more villas. There is always something. Even now, as I sit here, approaching 2am, there are young boys playing soccer outside in the middle of the street.
I miss silence. Silence is beautiful. Silence is precious. And here, in Cairo, it's a rare privilege. Maybe too rare.
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