This post was a reflection written in August of last year, after one week into a month long fast from TV and social media. Having officially read one full book of the Bible (an unprecedented occurrence in my life), it felt timely and worthy of sharing. Enjoy, and let me know what thoughts come to mind by using the comments section below.

Have you ever heard the saying that “silence is deafening?” Zora is asleep in the backseat. I’ve turned off the radio (or rather the audio book that I was listening to). I haven’t watched TV in over a week or logged onto social media. I’ve read the Bible in more consecutive days than ever before in my entire life. I’ve prayed. I’ve journaled and spent time with my own thoughts in an unparalleled capacity. 

Doing so has made me realize how intentional I am about drowning them out… my thoughts and their inner-workings. I douse them in reality TV, in music that blares, and other people’s stream of conscious by way of their social media timelines. I make a choice to consistently learn what the world wants me to know instead of seeking my inner voice and allowing it to guide me. 

I turn my ear off to the voice of God. I find Him in Chance the Rapper, in Grey’s Anatomy, in other outlets that make me feel… and make me cry… without having to question why they make me feel that way. Without having to question what part of myself is awakened when what’s meant as entertainment tugs at my heart strings. 

Without saying, “my reality is more than I care to process,” I neglect it by way of acutely orchestrated “reality” television. I tell my brain to take a break and allow the chaos of these self-sabotaging co-stars to comfort me. To make me feel ordered and aware. Woke, even. 

I’d been seeking a place of refuge from my own thoughts, and I’m slowly learning that they should, instead, be the place I run to. Not the place I flee and avoid as means of living in blissful ignorance, but the place I curate and tend to with the love of a doting mother. Of a careful house keeper. I should be nurturing myself - my inner thoughts and inner dialogue. My quiet knowings and my resounding voice. I should be affirming it’s value… encouraging it to talk louder, just as I would my daughter.

I should demand the attention my inner thoughts deserve and require others to be quiet when my intuition is speaking… begging to tell me what I’ve been too busy to realize that I already knew. If only I’d silence the noise and really listen.