Learning to appreciate — and understand — the power of silence

The soothing harmony of Simon and Garfunkel singing the “Sounds of Silence” kept me company on my drive home from a loud and contentious meeting.  My monkey brain was on fire and on the loose — not pleasant for me or those around me. 

While rehashing the more unpleasant aspects of the meeting, I stopped for a light. The last lines of the song “whispered in the sounds of silence” took center stage and uncharacteristically relegated monkey brain to the bleachers of my mind.

On impulse I drove to the beach, turned off the radio, exited the car to sit at my sacred spot looking out at the bay. The beach was still blessedly empty giving me time to reflect and reconnect with my better self. 

I knew the feelings of quietude that being at the beach brings would be short-lived. In a couple of weeks, “Beach Party” time will arrive along with tourists and summer residents. These soirees sometimes rival those of the beach party movies we watched back in the day —  minus Annette (Funicello) and Frankie (Avalon.)

Many of us are inundated with all manner of devices that beep or ring— a tad disquieting don’t you think? And we do it to ourselves. We set Google or Alexa to follow our instructions, or to give us instructions and reminders. Our bucolic hamlets and towns during the summer season can be crowded and noisy, to say the least. 

If a couple wants to enjoy a quiet, intimate dinner, good luck. Restaurants have become so noisy that you cannot hear one another. Perhaps that is why some couples sitting across from each other are engrossed in the world of social media. 

Last month, a confluence of events, beginning with a storm surge that knocked out my power, and my trusty computer giving up the ghost— without warning or last rites, I might add— rendered me silent. Divine intervention? Did I get what I asked for? 

At first, I was frantic — so much for the sounds of silence. The electricity was restored. However, replacing my computer would take the better part of the week. The idea of work piling up was causing my monkey brain to become dangerously active.

At first, I tried to dictate a column that was due into my cell phone. I would not recommend it. I retrieved emails, but I could not act on them. The necessary data was yet to be downloaded. I decided (with effort) to lean into the situation. 

I tried to cajole my monkey brain to think of the coming week as a forced vacation. Besides writing, I run a small medical billing service. Truthfully, it was not that I missed being put on hold ad nauseam listening to awful music while waiting for an insurance representative or filing claims— it just seemed, well, so quiet. 

Leaning into the silence was a tad difficult at first, but like anything else, I began to get used to it. Although I am outgoing and chatty, those who really know me are aware that I need quiet time every day. Then, a thunderbolt of inspiration:  I was going to treat this interlude as an extended quiet time. Short of beating my chest, I was pleased with myself. In that week of respite from noise, I rediscovered my inner sanctuary where monkey brain does not reside.

Fast forward two weeks:  I was back to work, tethered to my computer. However, the noise in my mind was still turned down. That is, until, while at a gathering, I heard a comment so derogatory and unkind that I had to respond.  I looked around at the uncomfortable group and I knew that many shared my view and yet the sound of silence was deafening. However, I did not feel like an outlier. I felt empowered by my truth. 

Another thunderbolt of inspiration: Silence can be a double-edged sword.  It can be refreshing as a beach walk on a balmy day, or it can be a struggle. When we speak for ourselves or others it can wield a sword of social justice. We should not sit mute while the truth is in our hearts.  Speaking up challenges the norms, questions authority and demands change.

Silence in relationships wields the sword of death. Without differences there is indifference.  A partner who silently endures emotional or physical abuse is metaphorically dead.  Without stating our feelings, needs, or boundaries we forego vulnerability.  And vulnerability fosters intimacy. There comes a time that silence is both a betrayal to oneself and one’s partner.

Silence can be stifling at times.  Within silence, we withhold opinions, our dreams and our pain. That kind of silence weighs heavy on our hearts.  The unspoken words, the suppressed emotions can accumulate in our hearts, making us brittle and non- penetrable.  We fear judgement, rejection or confrontation.  We can become prisoners of our own silence. 

Life is a balancing act. As we travel between silence and expression, it is prudent to embrace both silence and speech.  Let silence be your refuge but never forget the power of your voice.