Except for a couple of posts a week I’ve been incredibly silent. Some of it is life being hectic due to the holiday, other projects, and completing other tasks, not to mention other real life duties. At the end of my day, though sometimes that isn’t until the middle of the next day, I’m sometimes too tired to update blog posts. I feel as if I’ve nothing to say because of it. What started off as too tired to say anything one day spanned to several days.
I felt unnerved at first by how much time lapsed between my last actual blog post. I felt a strong possibility I wouldn’t update and revise my past blog posts. I felt I wouldn’t contribute anything new to my blog. I was afraid I said all I wanted to and my blog was dead before it even began. I found this silence uncomfortable. It was the type of silence I hated for so long because of my personal associations with silence. For the longest time silence meant condemnation, disapproval, or derision. It was the awkward silence after a heated argument, the anger that hung between people and the impending fear another argument or worse would explode. I learned silence was in itself an act of intimidation.
I admit silence wasn’t always used for intimidation, but if broken the same consequences would ensue. If silence was broken during reading periods or during a performance it meant I disrupted someone and met derision. Silence always indicated proper conduct during prayer or as a sign or respect for those who paid the ultimate price. In those instances if it was broken there was a punishment, and it usually consisted of a silent glare at least. Silence was considered a precious commodity with unclear boundaries.
I didn’t clear most of my fears of silence until my early adulthood. I’m not sure if there was just one event or a series of events, but I know it revolved around a Reiki circle. Early in my spiritual journey I studied Reiki and attended a Reiki circle to hone my practice. During those times we didn’t always speak to each other. When we did we joked, shared experiences and knowledge, and discussed anything having to do with those moments at the circle. It was the silence that really impacted me. No one was punished with silence, only once can I recall someone forced into silence (the person was more of a nuisance and got in the way often). Silence happened and when it did everyone honored it. It was honored even when I visited other members of the circle in their home. Sometimes it was a lull in the conversation, sometimes it was because we were moved to silence. Sometimes it’s because nothing needed saying.
The moments of silence with friends from the circle are the ones I remember best. I remember the drowsiness with eating with friends and the ensuing nap we took on the floor in one incident. There were many times when on road trips we sat in silence and enjoyed the moment. The silence became a means for introspection. It was a moment of peace and stillness. The silence proved a means to remove the distraction of conversation so I could live in the moment.
It was in those moments I learned silence is perfectly fine. I can enjoy silence and appreciate everything without a sound. I don’t need to speak to fill some imagined void. Not every moment needs words or sounds. Later I learned while a member of the Kemetic Orthodoxy that “silent” and “wise” were pronounced the same way. I haven’t studied the language with enough rigor to say either way, but I feel it applies to lessons like this one.
The same silence it took me so long to embrace is one I feel applies to writing my blog. Sometimes I don’t have anything to write. It doesn’t mean my blog’s abandoned. I’m saying what I need to say when I feel the moment’s best. I’m choosing my words over prattling and honor both moments of speaking and moments of silence for myself. I practice wisdom.