Silence

The idea of silence has been on my mind recently.

Have I been thinking about silence because I have none in my own life? Absolutely. I have two highly energetic kids, I live in a fairly noisy neighborhood, my daily commute is filled with the roar of the freeway, and even my job is louder than any previous. Needless to say, I don't get a lot of quiet time.

Despite all this, I have recently noticed that even when I might have the chance, I don't let myself exist in silence. I fill pauses in conversations with quips or awkward comments. I put on music or a podcast when driving or doing chores. I hum to myself or tap my fingers when sitting still. I keep finding myself trying to escape the silence, even when I am utterly exhausted by all the noise.

This concerned me. Why am I so determined to always be listening to something? To avoid silence in conversation?

I've had ear problems my entire life. From ages 1 to 17 I had nine different ear surgeries. Far too much of my childhood was spent in the carpeted halls of ENT doctors' offices doing hearing tests, microscope examinations, ear drops, ear creams, cleanings, patch work, and finally the dreaded scheduling of another surgery.

As a child, trying to process this, I was constantly afraid I was going to go deaf. Honestly, sometimes I still have that fear. The idea that I would one day lose my hearing gave me so much anxiety about navigating the world and missing out on human connection. I specifically remember being terrified of not being able to hear my mom's voice. It was, and still is, something I perhaps irrationally fear.

It makes sense, I suppose. My childhood fears defined my behavior back then, and they still drive my behavior today. My unspoken rationale being: "When I am in silence I am losing precious time where I could be experiencing music, stories, conversation and the sounds of the world around me."

To some extent I don't even disagree with this line of thinking. Even as my slightly more rational "adult" brain recognizes the importance of silence and quiet, there is a part of me that is so eager to experience the world and dive headfirst into constant noise and stimulation. There is a part of me that mourns the idea of living in silence because I could be having a deep conversation with someone. Or debating philosophy. Or listening to music. Or watching a movie. Or literally anything that grants me a glimpse of the human experience.

Despite all this childhood trauma and FOMO, I keep coming back to silence. I think I am slowly coming around to the importance of quiet moments.

I have started to appreciate silence in conversation because it could mean that we are engaged and speaking with intent. Pauses for thought and reflection help facilitate deeper conversation. Not jumping to fill the silence shows respect for other people in the conversation and for what they have to say.

I can enjoy some silence between loved ones as a show of confidence in each other. The idea that we don't have to fill every moment with words to appreciate each other's company. The quiet reassurance of someone near you simply to be near you, and not for the exchange of information.

More and more, I recognize the need for solitary quiet moments so I can form thoughts, opinions, and beliefs. Forcing myself to contend with ideas before spouting things off to the closest person allows me to decide what is important to me. It helps me better understand other points of view in relation to my own, and allows for new information or perspectives to alter my thoughts and opinions, but gives me assurance that I am not always just blindly following the loudest voices.

After all this, I don't know how much my life is going to change. I still have two kids who love to have screaming contests. I still live in a neighborhood on a busy street with kids who play in my yard. I still have to drive on the freeway to a job full of energetic and loud people.

And honestly, I love it. I love hearing the world around me. I love hearing the difference in people's voices. I love the whistle of wind as I crack my car window when I'm going too fast. I still love listening to loud music and ridiculous podcasts, and I'm not going to stop singing to myself.

But I do want to have more deliberate moments of silence. How that happens is to be decided. Maybe it will be a grand failure and I'll have to take those moments where I can get them, but either way I am excited for my next moment of silence.

- Ben