The Sounds of Silence

Silence keeps showing up in my life, waiting to be noticed.

It’s where life stops performing and starts telling the truth. What I’m realizing is that it’s not the emptiness of silence, but the fullness of it that asks me to stay a little longer in the quiet.

This week I’m starting a series on silence; I’m inviting you to join me. We can talk about your own quiet moments – and how they are much more than empty space between moments that matter. We’ll look at silence not as absence, but as presence, as waiting.

Let’s talk about how to trust the stillness long enough to hear what it has to say.

Introduction

This is a series about silence.

Not the kind we rush to fill, or fear, or apologize for, or the awkward silence that feels heavy and serious. This is about the silence that arrives without us asking, whether invited or not. It’s the silence that settles around us after a door closes. The quiet that follows loss and heartbreak. The unhurried, silent stillness that reflects change, remembrance, release.  

It’s easy to think that silence means nothing is happening. We mistake it for empty spaces that come between important moments, or at least significant or memorable moments. But I’ve learned otherwise. Those silent spaces are where grief resides, or where love lingers. In the quiet, when we don’t have an audience, we become someone new, perhaps more authentic. That silence is where the noise gradually falls away and what’s left is harder to ignore.

Over the next few weeks, I want to listen more carefully, and I’d love for you to join me.

Can we recognize the silence and the quiet places that we don’t give names to? The porch swing before hard news, or the kitchen after everyone leaves? There’s a shared silence, when, without words, people say I’m still here. The ancient quiet found in nature, which tells us we are both brief and beloved at the same time. There’s a silence in remembering, forgiving, and letting something go.

Silence isn’t something to solve or make more acceptable.

Let’s talk about ways to stay with it – to resist the urge to hurry it along or soften it so we can manage it easier.

My friend Shanna made a comment on an earlier post that made me think more about silence. It’s not absence – it is presence, and waiting.

So come back tomorrow - and let's sit in the silence for a moment and see what it tells us.