Show Me How To Bear The Sound Of Silence

“Silence makes the real conversation between friends.

Not the saying but the never needing to say is what counts.”

 

[Margaret Lee Runbeck]

 


Today, whilst searching for the right quote for my daily post in the 365 of 2012 project, I came across this great quote and it got me thinking.

Unfortunately, I can’t seem to find it anymore and I don’t even know who to attribute it to ( I want to say Emerson. It sounds like something Emerson would say or at least something people would attribute to him).

So for lack of exact wording, you will have to make do with what I can recall:

“As we go through life we find, that our closest friends are not the ones who console us and offer words of wisdom, but those who can bear sitting next to us in silence, suffering through the bewilderment and loss that can not be described, without the need for words to connect to us and our feelings”

[Maybe Emerson]

This stunned be (and oh I wished I had been insightful enough to bookmark it). Deeply.

I think mostly, because I’m not good with silence.

And I don’t mean the awkward silence, nobody’s good with those.

And I don’t mean the natural silence, when all has been said, everybody’s good with those.

I mean the painful silence, when someone you feel connected to, suffers.

I can’t bear it!

Not only, because I want to make them feel better. Everybody wants to lift the spirit of people they care about, when those are feeling low.

I can’t bear it, because I need to let them know, with words (many words), that they are not alone, that I am there with them, that I treasure them and I feel for them and feel with them.

I want them to hear my voice reciting the wonders of who they are, so that my voice might echo in them and in response they can hear their own voice repeating it.

Over and over again. Until they believe it or they feign to believe it just to have me shut up – whatever comes first.

I understand, that this is just a way of comforting myself. For if the pain of the one close to me is vanquished (by words), driven back into the misty fog from hence it came, I too can rest easy.

I’m sorry.

I wished, I understood the art of silent companionship in need.

I wished, I could make you feel loved and worthy and understood with my presence and my presence alone.

This is one of the things I want to learn.

To listen to the grieving silence and to bear it.

To make a stand for someone by shutting up.

To give comfort to others and not to comfort myself.

 

For now, I can’t.

Please know, that I only want to see you happy and in the attempt of forcing a smile on your lips (in the hopes it might then enter your heart as well) I fight demons the only way I know how: With loud noises.

So please forgive me, if I talk to much.

I will try to breathe more between sentences at least.