I dreamed I was listening to silence

I was standing on a beach at dusk, not watching the waves but waiting for the space between them. The water receded slowly, and in that pause—just before the next swell—I heard it: not a sound, but the weight of quiet. It wasn’t empty. It felt like something was being held, like the world was breathing out. When I turned to speak, my voice didn’t come. Not because I couldn’t, but because there was no need. I think I understood, then, what attention really is—just being present in the gap.