By Bill Shein
November 30, 2009

Let’s be honest: Newspaper columnists usually hide their feelings behind an impenetrable wall of opinion and commentary. We show the world our brains (and, frequently, our lack of brains), but not much emotion. 

But for better or worse, that’s just not me. At the big columnist conventions – like “ColumnCon 2009,” held last month at a Holiday Inn outside Timber Lake, South Dakota – most attendees guard their personal space and speak dryly about current affairs. But I give long bear hugs and European double-cheek kisses and yell passionately about issues of the day. Until I’m escorted from the premises. 

What can I say? I wear my heart on my sleeve, despite the increased chance of contracting a dangerous cardiac infection. 

That’s why five years ago I revealed – in this space, under the heading, “An Unlikely Love Story” – that I was madly in love with my Web browser’s pop-up blocker. When I later became smitten with the curvaceous comma, I published full details. I even shared the mixed emotions of leaving the comma – with whom I still collaborate professionally – for the smooth, silvery iPod Shuffle. 

And earlier this year, before our fabulous wedding was featured on the cover of both Vanity Fair and Produce Manager Weekly, I told the world about my romance with the sweet, delicious clementine. At the time, I was sure I would live forever in her waxy, bright-orange embrace. But I was wrong. 

Why? Because recently I discovered the truest of true love, someone who sets my sleeve-borne heart aflutter. An incredible woman – and one without a USDA-mandated expiration date. 

Friends, please don’t consider me a flighty, serial romantic who ditches my partner whenever column topics seem scarce. Because my new love is special. Unique. Almost indescribable. 

Who is she? That perfect creature known as silence. 

Oh, mysterious Eros! I thought I understood you, but I had barely an inkling! With silence, a new world of deep, emotional connection has opened up. She’s the antidote to the noise of TV talking heads, cell phone ringtones, and the incessant blathering and “cha-ching!” sounds coming from former Alaska governors. And that’s just for starters. 

Together, silence and I have discovered that words aren’t necessary. Even without verbal chatter, silence’s mysteries are quietly revealed to me, deepening our bond. Our relationship feels like an endless meditation session that requires no mantras or esoteric Buddhist practices or expensive weekend retreats. We just are; quietly, always. 

When I ask, “Should we go out to a movie tonight?” she responds without confusing language, mysterious facial expressions, or that passive-aggressive shrug that leads to trouble in so many relationships. No, she speaks without speaking, yet somehow I understand. (We usually stay in.) 

Of course, there are practical challenges. Like when I get home from work and can’t tell if she’s in the kitchen or out in the garden. Or maybe in the study. She’s everywhere and nowhere, my ubiquitous love-muffin. 

Living with silence, now I understand what E.M. Forster meant in “The Machine Stops,” his prescient 1909 short story about a modern world in which all human needs are met by a machine. He wrote, “The Machine hums! Did you know that? Its hum penetrates our blood, and may even guide our thoughts. Who knows!” 

Holding my beloved silence in my arms, we transcend technology’s hum. Together we guide our own thoughts, thank you very much, with no intrusion from distracting “tweets” or “status updates” or so-called “breaking news.” Daily life explodes with wonder, contentment, and possibilities of our own making. The frenetic noise of the world no longer obscures or distracts; it just ceases to be, leaving only love and beauty. 

What happened to clementine, you ask? She took our split badly, I’m afraid, and threw herself into a box with other clementines. Tragically, she was later peeled and eaten by my nephew as an after-school snack. Paraphrasing the good book, “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, fruit to nephew’s stomach.” 

But enough back-story. Want to meet my soul mate? Just turn off your iPhone, shut down the computer, unplug the stereo, close your eyes, breathe deeply, and soon you’ll understand why I love my bride-to-be.

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Bill Shein’s love life is featured prominently in the latest Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders.

(This column first appeared in the Berkshire Eagle newspaper on November 28, 2009.)

The Complete “Unlikely Love” Series (So Far…)
An Unlikely Love Story (12/15/04)
Another Unlikely Love Story (12/7/05)
Even More Unlikely Love (3/19/07)
The Unlikeliest Love Story (1/29/09)
The Most Unlikely Love (11/30/09)