There are days when the loudest sound we will hear is a whisper, the brightest color we can manage is a soft muted blush. When we dress, we choose loose, soft, and indulgent. I was in such a state last week.
My curls. tight last night and full of bounce, wandered down my back in loose waves. I let it be. I chose kitten heels with quiet soles, and waves of gray sequins that remind me of the sunset at night, when the moon is full.
It was cold, harsh and windy outside. I stayed indoors, depriving myself of the rush of adrenaline that hits me when I step into the city streets. I did not need that today. Today will be quiet, reflective. Shhh. Hush.
My loose dress and blush shawl look like lingerie worn inside. It is not. So much of what we infer is contextual, no? The workmanship and soft burnout velvet is soft of my skin. If this were a dropped waist silhouette, you would see something like this on Downton Abbey.
I will only read my sweetest book. It is a book of photos taken by my daughter, when she traveled abroad a few years back. Her inscription to me, was so thoughtful, so dear, I can not tell it here. I do not trust it's sweetness will translate intact and whole, to this page.
I will put my things down for a bit.
And when I stand again, I shall listen with only one ear; the one that works and brings me sound. I won't begrudge my condition, I will only feel gratitude that I can hear the sound of laughter and conversation. The annoying sound of traffic is hushed by half. No I will not make less, or more, of hearing only half.