People often say that a silence speaks louder than words.
(Or in my native language, they say “the silence speaks parts of books”).
Couples often say that the problem is “they don’t communicate” .
And sometimes that’s true, about practical matters.
But if silence speaks louder than words, then in many cases “not communicating” is actually communicating more. Not less.
Why do we call it “not communicating” ? Because deep down we know exactly what every little glance, vibe or microexpression means and we don’t want to receive that message, we want something else.
The same is true in relationship to ourselves.
Why is meditation such a hard habit to stick with for many people?
It costs less effort than most of the things we could be doing instead.
The main reason it is hard is because meditation is listening to the silence inside, and not being able to deny what it communicates.
Thoughts become clearer.
The body will speak to you.
Lingering impacts reveal themselves and unattended longings come to the surface.
You may encounter boredom, bliss and heartbreak and none of it will be up to you.
One of the things I’ve committed to this summer is spending time in silence every morning.
Noticing what the silence is saying inside me and outside of me before I engage with the day.
As you may know from previous emails, another focus this summer is embodying what I teach in daily life, as much as possible.
As part of that, I’ve been noticing the moments I go quiet in social situations.
Not as a bad thing where I tell myself to not be quiet, but as a curious thing:
What is this silence communicating?
What’s here?
What’s happening for me?
What, in this moment, is being said louder than words?
The reasons vary. But they’re highly relevant.
I take notes of them.
What was the thing that I was hearing loudly but didn’t want to give voice to?
What was the reason? Do I condone that reason?
Often I do. Not everything needs to be made explicit.
But other times, it’s me withholding a gift because I feel I’m not being seen or met. Or I’m negotiating with comfort over what needs to be said, rather than negotiating with what the situation is or isn’t asking of me.
There’s a rich world inside every silence. Whether we spend it alone or with each other.
And it gets more dense or harder to unpack the more we turn away from it.
In fact, turning away from what the silence is saying is often precisely what blocks communication.
If you turn away from what’s happening inside you, you can’t express it.
If you turn away from what’s happening between you, you can’t address it.
I think that’s by design. I think it make sense.
I’d very much dislike living in a world where we constantly have to hear the parts of the silence that spiral us into overwhelm.
But your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to listen just a little bit more than you’re currently doing.
Maybe just 1%.
Hear what the silence is saying, then decide if you feel willing to give a voice to it.