Yesterday I woke up completely deaf in my right ear. It’s a strange feeling, having at the very least five percent of one sense and then to suddenly, abruptly be without it. That five percent is a lot. That five percent did a lot. And now it’s gone. I’m not sad, really. I think I’m exhausted. To try and learn how to live completely deaf in one ear terrifies me. Learning to live with that mere five percent was difficult enough. This happens quite a bit, though. It could have happened for any number of reasons, but I’m almost positive that my ear canal is just blocked with wax or something completely normal. But the chances that it’s not? Well, that still rests with me every time I lay my head down to sleep.
Today I woke up completely deaf in my right ear. I wasn’t surprised, to be honest. Disappointed, yes. But also curious as to what is actually wrong with me this time. Of course, I’m imagining the absolute worst, but I’ve come so far in this game of cat and mouse that I feel a little numbed to the shock of what’s happening. I remain utterly calm as I email my mother to request the email of my ENT. I tell my mother what’s happening and await her response. She will be more anxious than I am, that’s for sure. I feel a little terrible that my only question when waking up this morning was “Ugh, what now?” instead of “Yikes, this kind of sucks. What is happening?”
I have no room left in me to exhaust questions of fear. In a way, I have already accepted what’s happening, already decided to live with it. That makes me a little bit sad.
You know that silence, that little static noise you hear first thing in the morning? As if there is a field of wheat rustling inside your tiny little ear drum and it’s pressing a breeze into your cheeks while you yawn the rest of your body awake – white noise. The only thing I can think of right now is how lonely I feel without the presence of that white noise.
Charlene Moore, July 2016
It’s raining, pouring really, and I was nearly physically assaulted while at my job, yet all I can think about while my fingers shake is in which way I would use the power, if I had it, to know exactly what the people around me were thinking. Would I use it against them for personal gain, or perhaps use it for the benefit of us both? I’d like to think it was the latter, but I know for a fact we as humans can’t help but at the very least consider selfishness once. Me being the way that I am, I firmly believe the universe has created a path to which we lead for ourselves, which includes a sort of communal connectedness. In some way, one or another, we are connected whether by physicality or spirituality. Sometimes we are tied with both. Sometimes we feel only one side. I also believe our actions encourage the outcomes we face. You assume one thing will happen, so you put your thought, energy, and time into this thing. Voila! It has happened. Was it because you put yourself into this outcome, or was it just the way things worked out? I have a difficult time deciphering between the two, and thus making it difficult to decide whether or not something is my fault.
Everything felt like colour. If colour had a feel, a taste, a smell – this is what I was feeling, tasting, smelling, touching, hearing. There was no distraction in sight, none of the physical visual kind. But there was so much to see. Nothing felt good or bad, but somewhere in between there was acknowledgment of it being there. A stone, and the wind. The ground. My feet pressing into the soft sand, left, right, left, right. Stand still. Focus on seeing, focus on touching, focus on smelling, but never focus on more than one sense at a time. Thinking. Each moment I encountered had to be savoured individually, had to be respected and appreciated as just that one moment without the threat of another sense bumping into it. One at a time. Patience. You will all get a turn. Multiple turns. Individually. Everything I was experiencing was so, so special. Continue reading “July 23 – Are you lonely while you’re looking for yourself out there?”
I feel I have come upon an infancy to which I am experiencing for the first time; learning about people and places, how to do things and, most importantly, how not to do things. In which way do we go about our lives as oneself when the influence of temporary environment is strenuously hefty? Maybe I am acknowledging this weight for the first time, or maybe I am finally recognizing this as something that is heavy. Our space, the people we interact with, and the activities we partake in are all things that contribute to our spectrum of needs when it comes to our well-being. Sometimes we don’t pay as much attention to this spectrum and other times we hold hands with it a little too tightly. Finding a happy medium is exhausting. Continue reading “May 4 – An abundance of almost sappy sounds”