Thankfully Silence is Just a Concept

I cannot decide if one way of living is better than another, because I have no point of reference. But, what I can say is that for me, a silent world, would be a difficult place.

I weighed less than two pounds when I was born. I was as long as a ball point pen, and near as skinny. My father could literally hold me in the palm of his hand, and the first time he tried the breathing tube connected to my nose fell out. It is, without any hubris, truly a miracle that I have lived to adulthood.

There is a spectrum to blindness, and although I use the word blind to describe myself when people ask, that does not mean I see nothing. There is the purple tint to an autumn sky, the points of my German Shepherd's ears as she tilts her head, and the blurry outlines of my friends.

But, so much of that world that I can still see is augmented by taste, touch, and sound. I could no longer hear smiles, the sound of cars rumbling down the street, or listen to my favorite poets doing Spoken Word.

To have a silent world would not be a bad life, but it would most definitely be different. And, I am happy for now to have it be only a writing prompt, a class discussion, or something my hipster friends and I can discuss over tea.