The gentle waves came to the shore of my consciousness only in moments of stillness,
as I looked to the sky while I stopped to consume my lunch as slowly as I could afford,
as I looked at my watch in between intervals at the pool as I measured my heart rate,
as the day came to an end as I failed to start two new books due to exhaustion.
These gentle waves were not calming,
they were concerning.
On days where our defences are down due to the fatigue that comes with never being able to take a break from one’s tasks,
my mind could not help but go to the generational damage occurring along the Sahel, in Sudan, Gaza, Lebanon, Syria, Iraq, Iran, and Ukraine.
The relative safety and calm of my surroundings start ringing in my ears on days like these,
for this,
was not a given for me.
With slightly varying circumstances,
I know that I would have been one of the cohort who grew up with ulcers from stress due to air raids,
only to look at the next generation have it much worse as we failed them.
And yet,
everything is fine, well, and good.
We joke, smile, and saunter forward with our tasks in order to partake in our nonconsequential hobbies,
while also screaming threats to other drivers in our comfortably air-conditioned cars as they inconsiderately drift into our lane.
As the tinnitus becomes deafening,
I try to temper it by fleeing from the moments of stillness,
as there is an endless sea of people around me who need care, love, and attention,
and though they think that I am doing them the favour by bringing them meals,
by helping them with their businesses,
by coming over and fixing an electrical issue in their house,
they are in fact,
helping me.
The silence is no longer deafening,
it is now bludgeoning.