Jenny Heston

The breeze was gently undulating his way through the day, tickling the autumn leaves as they hung on the trees, picking up their fallen friends and gently lifting them up in the air to move them a few inches and place them back down. The sun was out and it was a glorious colourful Indian summer day in October. As the breeze moved along he saw a house where the front door hadn’t closed over properly and decided to go explore as this was a house where the doors were normally locked, the windows closed and covered with slatted blinds to limit the visibility from the outside. It was an ordinary looking house, nothing special, but the gardens were vibrant and filled with a multitude of coloured flowers and climbing roses. The breeze liked entering human homes as he was always amazed by the smells he could pick up and waft about, the energy, the laughter and the noise, the colours and the busyness. He liked the houses where the windows were wide open and he could dart in and lift up piles of paper and waft a humans hair. So far nobody had really minded, especially on a hot day, as he often brought a gift of the scent of the ocean and a cooling presence.

As the breeze entered this house he wondered if anyone lived there, it was so quiet, not the safe quiet of humans sleeping in fact more like a silence. There were no voices chatting, there was no reverberance of energy inside the walls and no small humans rushing around creating chaos and laughter, it felt strange. As he flowed into the living room he could see everything in its place, the papers were in a neat pile, the ornaments had a feel of look only, don’t touch, there were no dishes or cups lying around and the kitchen looked as if it wasn’t used for creating meals it was too tidy. Maybe whoever lives here is away?  The air felt stale and stagnant, with an ennui of sorrow and pain that overlaid. As the breeze moved up the hallway he realized there were humans here, 3 of them – all women. One was doing the laundry, one was on the phone and one was doing a meditation. This is most odd he felt, there are humans here and you wouldn’t know it. The breeze chose to linger and observe in an attempt to understand.  He ended up lingering for a few days and when he left he felt less than and drained. He couldn’t play with the leaves for a while and found himself just wanting to swirl in the same spot and to be quiet, so very quiet.

The breeze watched, there were no celebrations and when they were suggested by the younger two women they were greeted with a mocking smile, a raised eyebrow and a dismissal. He watched one of them who pumped Prana in a joyful, powerful way fold in on herself, she hardly sang anymore and the silence and negativity were draining and crushing her. When she tried to talk to the older one the conversation would go around and around and it was always her fault.  He watched the other be continually greeted with a smile, but beneath that smile was a space of negation and again the conversations went round and round, he watched as her sadness rose and the despair becoming overwhelming. So the silence became one of oppression and moved through the house compressing everything around.  Be silent!

He watched as the younger two women would get up early, before the sun rose and leave the house, taking the dog with them and go walk and chat like chirping birds and as they laughed and explored their souls soared and they became more like who they were. But those were brief moments in the day. He watched as help was continually offered and dismissed by the older woman whose home it was. He watched as the invitations to join in activities, the entreaties to come do things were offered up and pushed to the side as they were uninteresting. He watched gorgeous food being created with music playing, the music had to be turned off and the meal was eaten in Silence. The only time there was noise in the house was when the TV was played at such a level that as he swirled out of the open sliding door he could hear it outside. Lights were turned off even when someone was in that room. Everything was controlled either by silence, dismissiveness, manipulation, anger, or demeaning. Games were offered and as they were played jealousy and snide comments would happen – so the youngest would walk away. Why?  Why was it like this? That question was asked and reverberated from the walls by the younger two, but the only answer was one of shame, blame and silence. The cries and questions were released and floated out onto the breeze.  

The breeze watched and finally he had to leave as there was no Joy here, no gratitude, no acceptance and no compromise. It was rigid, cold and silent.