Silent

Peace is silent. At the end of Christmas break, my family and I spent three nights and four days in Shela, Lamu. It's arguably one of my favorite places in the world. It's an island, with no cars, only narrow alleyways and donkeys. It's one of the few pockets of authentic Swahili culture left along the Kenyan coast, with coconut rice, burqas and five o'clock calls to prayer. There are stretches of unclaimed beaches on the pleasantly temperatured on the Indian Ocean. In the four days we spent there, I read two books in their entirety, slept, tanned, swam, ate and drank quarts of fresh mango juice. The pace of life, there, the antithesis of the pace of my city life, silences the lingering stress of last semester

My future is silent. As of early January, I was accepted into my bottom choice university. It's the perfect location, but I'm aiming higher. The silence frustrates me. My parents have a new job, a new future opening up for them. I'm still stuck in the unknown, hearing what seems to be a God-inspired mantra stuck on repeat in my head, "Trust, just trust". Trust is silent.

My life is silent. No, it hasn't suddenly slowed down. Who do you think I am? A high school senior afflicted with senioritis? Please. Senioritis is for the weak. I have five football practices, one rehearsal for a piece I'm directing for IB Theatre and thousands of words to write every week. In the midst of the chaos, however, I'm content. I'm over high school. High school's over me. I'm over unnecessary drama, especially caused by the opposite sex. Which reminds me, this Valentine's Day I plan to wax philosophical on the topic of romance. So stay tuned for a 17 year old's equally cynical and idealized reflections on love, whatever the heck that is. Anyways, I digress. The point is I'm no longer bouncing out of my bed to greet life in the morning, but there is something equally satisfying in the silence of my contentment. 

Beka, however, is not silent. I don't know if I've introduced you to my best friend, but she's taller than me, more freckle-y and probably one of the few people I know that matches my level of quirky. So, today I'd just like to celebrate the girl who finishes my thoughts. She has army crawled down my hallway to raid my fridge. We have played Age of Mythology on different computers, but on the same floor, for hours. We have weekly in-depth analyses of Glee episodes. We sing loudly. Our all-time favorites are Chitty Chitty Bang Bang and Joyful, Joyful (from Sister Act 2). We have Skype dance parties. We rocked Choir and Rosslyn Singers by sophomore year, as the coolest altos in town. When we don't see each other during the week, we post lyrics on each others Facebook walls. When our rival teams play each other, we jump around and wave at each other from opposite ends of the football pitch, celebrating wins, losses and ties with a post-game hug. This semester, I'm more than thankful that she keeps my life loud.

 "I came walking down this road for a better point of view. I threw down my heavy load and what I found was You, and all of time stood still... Oh me, oh my. I'm standing in Your silence, gonna stand here for a long, long time."