Awkward silences.
(Pause intended.)
We’ve all experienced them. Maybe even some not-so awkward ones, too.
So what separates one from the other?
What makes a silence awkward, and what are some things we can do when this happens?
The first thing to understand is that an awkward silence, the way we traditionally word it, doesn’t exist.
A silence can not be inherently awkward, it’s just a lack of verbal content.
So why do some silences feel like it?
There are 2 reasons:
1 is that the awkwardness was already there and the silence revealed it.
Another is that our relationship to the silence itself is what created the awkwardness.
An awkward silence is like an accidental moment of shared meditation:
As the verbal content between you subsides, your awareness increases and you start to notice what’s really here.
Culturally, we tend to think that when a silence is awkward, this is a sign of disconnect.
But that’s not really accurate:
Connection is always happening.
It’s in the silence that the current shape and flavor of that connection is felt.
The way we are relating to each other.
The way we are relating to this shared moment.
The way we are relating to how we are relating to them, and how that interaction is going.
That’s why sometimes silence can feel blissful and other times it can feel unbearable.
It’s not that the silence is blissful.
It’s that it reveals our bliss, or we relate to it blissfully.
It’s not that the silence is unbearable.
It’s that it reveals our low capacity to bear with what is happening, or that we are resisting the act of bearing it.
Similarly, an awkward silence is simply a silence in which it is revealed that one or more people don’t feel entirely comfortable with the moment.
When we’re not comfortable with the moment, silence is often default avoided.
We fill the space with anything that can obscure it, until it inevitably wins and feels awkward.
We then often perceive this awkward silence as a sign things aren’t going well. That we arrived at an unpleasant impasse.
But in reality, an awkward silence is a golden opportunity.
It’s a moment when, if you respond appropriately, you get to take the interaction to a deeper level together.
Let’s explore the why, the how, and a bunch of actionable things you can exploriment with.
Silence Invites Deeper Intimacy
This isn’t always obvious, especially when silence feels awkward.
But silence by default invites more intimacy than verbal conversation.
Because you can’t cover-up what’s happening or try to present it a certain way by framing it cleverly.
All you can do is look at the person you’re facing, and they’ll be looking at you.
So when the silence does arrive, try taking it as an invitation to intimacy:
Sink a little more deeply into yourself. Feel your feelings. Feel your body. Notice your thoughts. Notice how you relate to the moment.
If it feels available to you, make eye contact with the other(s), which is essentially a silent way of allowing them to see the same things you just felt, and for you to see where they are at.
That’s why we often deflect it in the face of awkwardness. It’s the idea that if the other can’t see our awkwardness, it might not enter the conversation.
But of course, it does, because deflecting eye contact is a direct expression of it. It’s already here. The only question is. Do we resist it or welcome it?
Oh hey, perfect segue!
Welcome the Awkwardness
You’ve just taken the awkwardness as invitation to intimacy with self and other.
Now notice what happens.
Did anything arise that felt unpleasant? Welcome that it’s here.
This is the first step.
It’s when we can not welcome them, that awkward silences feel like an ending.
We make them an ending, because by not welcoming this moment, we can not collaborate with it to create the next one.
In some cases, welcoming the awkwardness can already be what lifts it.
You can compare this with personality:
The difference between people perceiving you as awkward or delightfully quirky is often self-acceptance.
The difference between perceiving a moment as ickily awkward or entertainingly, funnily awkward is often our acceptance of that moment too. This changes it from feeling like stuckness to feeling like a weird little dance you’re doing.
But we don’t even have to make awkwardness funny.
We can also just accept awkwardness, however unpleasant, as a thing that sometimes happens—and be with it.
Which brings us to the next practice.
Get Curious About the Awkwardness
Remember that one of the things that makes silence awkward is our relationship to the moment?
This begs the question: Whose relationship?
Yours? Mine? Both of us?
What I mean is, just because a silence feels awkward to you doesn’t mean it’s awkward to them, too.
During a brief period of homelessness, I spent most of my days in the company of a man I consider an initiatory mentor, the late Adrian Ceafay.
Sometimes I’d fall silent for a full hour and be worried I wasn’t a good conversationalist.
Until one day, he put his hand on my shoulder and said: “Pep, you know what I really love about you? There are these moments when you fall silent, and they give me permission to just be silent whenever I feel like, too. You put no pressure on the other person to speak.”
What I had perceived as social awkwardness, he perceived as kindness.
So instead of assuming a silence is inherently awkward, you can start by exploring where that awkwardness is noticed.
Is it inside you, a feeling?
Is it an interpretation of how they’re behaving?
Is it between you, perhaps, a dynamic that’s hinting at a disconnect?
Now bring your curiosity to whatever it is.
- “I’m feeling a bit awkward here, is that just me or both of us?”
- “Hey, I notice this expression on your face and I’m wondering what it is.”
- “Are you also sensing a disconnect? Want to explore together and see what it is?”
In other words: taste the vibe soup, and offer them a sip too.
(Note that you don’t have to do any of these things. You’re also free to feel the not-knowing and delight in it.)
Reveal the Awkwardness
This was, to some degree covered in the previous section. But it’s worth exploring separately.
Years ago, I struggled with writer’s block. And the things I did to break it also apply here.
The first way I dealt with the writer’s block was to just write about writer’s block.
At its most basic, if you feel awkward and don’t know what to say, you can reveal that.
“I’m feeling awkward and don’t know what to say.”
Then watch what happens.
The second way I dealt with writer’s block was to find out what was genuinely alive in me that I was stopping myself from writing about.
The same is true here:
What’s the elephant in the room? What would happen if you reveal it?
“I’m very attracted to you, and it makes me stumble a bit.”
“I’m wondering if we’re silent because there’s this looming topic we still haven’t talked about. Do you feel okay discussing it now?”
The same applies here, you don’t have to. Between 2018 and 2023 I had another huge case of writer’s block and I just decided I’d let it exist.
You don’t have to reveal the elephant, you can just let it be there.
Flirting, for example, can be as delightful when it stays implicit.
And letting it be there will often make it less awkward, but that depends on our capacity. It’s a practice.
Remember how I mentioned awkward silences are shared meditation sessions?
The first time I meditated, I couldn’t last for 30 seconds.
I immediately had a panic attack, because the meditation revealed the panic I was avoiding.
The same applies here: You can increase your window of tolerance with regards to awkwardness.
Practice feeling ok with longer silences.
Over time, your own comfortable presence in them will make all silences less awkward.
It will make the silence feel more safe to all people sharing it.
A Note on Misattunement
While this is generally not the case, there’s another possible reason silence feels awkward:
The other person wants to get away and doesn’t know how to make a clean exit.
In those cases, doing what I’m advising here (digging in to the silence, zooming in on what’s happening) is actually an increased conversational demand on someone who already feels discomfort in this interaction.
If you suspect they don’t feel at ease, you can always check by asking “Are you still enjoying this conversation?”
If you visibly notice them looking around for an exit, don’t put them on the spot and call it out. Just say something like “How would you feel about ending this conversation here?”
This allows them to leave if they want to, let you know if you misinterpreted, and doesn’t signal a specific desire from your side to end it.
That’s it for today. A lot of tools to play with, and as always, feel free to let me know what you tried and how it went, or what you’re secretly wishing for me to write about next.