The house is silent; it has been silent since my friends left last night. Every once in a while the phone dings to tell me I have a text or a drop falls from the faucet or the dogs collars jingle as one of them rotates in their sleep.

Eventually I turned the TV on just to hear someone else’s voice, other than my own yelling, “Arya lay down!” But that silence is not the silence I am referring to. The real silence I am referring to is in my own head, the head that over-thinks everything and causes stress. When a negative thought enters into my brain, I exam it and then let it go. I have never been good at sitting at home crying big old crocodile tears.
My once clean kitchen is now covered in dirty dishes and flour. There is dough stuck in the triangle shaped crevices on the tiled counter. White smears of flour contaminate the front of my shirt and the house smells like yeast. I love the smell. The smell of unbaked bread about to be baked, then later on the smell of baked bread.
I am baking, which tells you how stressed I am. So far I have made two huge loaves of bread and 7 bagels from scratch, I had 8 bagels but I dropped one in the oven and decided it was a goner. I am trying to drown my sadness, hurt and confusion in flour and yeast.
Silence has never been my friend. I have never been good at quiet. I always wanted to talk everything out till everyone including my own head hurt. Last night, I was tempted to go into talking mode but something told me that silence might be my best answer. I talked to my friends while they were here but not like I normally do. When I was alone again, I forced myself to sit on the couch, watch TV and eat sunflower seeds till I thought I would dehydrate from the salt.
When I got up this morning, I decided I needed to bake. So after coffee and wrangling two dogs, I decided to start two loaves of bread. I followed the directions, concentrating all my attention on measuring and mixing in ingredients.
While the bread was rising for the first time, I did some ballot boot camp. Partly because it was on my work-out calendar and mostly because it kept my mind quiet while I concentrated on the movements. A quiet mind is so rare in my world; it felt odd and comforting at the same time. 
In the shower, with shaky legs and arms from the ballot moves, I sat under the water and marveled at how much calmer I felt when I didn’t obsess and over-analyze every single move and word.
I have lost 4 of the 7 pounds I gained back from carb overloading, so I froze a loaf of bread to use later and only have one out to enjoy slowly.
How has your Saturday been? Are you a quiet person or a busy minded person?

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