Comfortable Silence

You finally arrived after many failed promises. Looking shattered and scattered, I hesitated to greet you with touch as I was so accustomed to doing. Your aura read like a do not disturb sign; official and threatening, like there could be a penalty or perhaps just the impression that you might recoil. A penalty I might consider, but the harshness of your dismissal would have crushed me. I take the safest road and ask “How are you?” Tired, you replied, closing me down by walking away.

I watch you slyly and silently, studying you and waiting for a cue to approach you. I misunderstand your muttering to yourself, thinking you have called me in to your thoughts at last. Your icy stare tells me I have interrupted you again. I feel like a chastised child even though you said nothing or swallowed your annoyance. I am off balance by this disconnection. I need to talk about your need to not talk. My questions appear to make popping sounds into your personal space. I struggle to turn myself invisible to please you.

What’s wrong? What have I done? What do you want and what can I do? Threads of, ‘what’ thoughts, spin around in my mind. A Female habit, I acknowledge to myself. You are out of order and I take it upon myself to fix it. It’s not mine; I remind myself, let it pass through. I ignore many years of training, in the art of not taking on other peoples stuff, and ask you once again “Are you okay?”

It’s a silly question really. What I really want to know is, “Where have you gone and why didn’t you take me with you.” I am here - but not in your perception. It’s a curious observation that I have been deemed invisible or superfluous. And you in your exhausted body, your brain cells short circuited and spirit darkened, still somehow managing to maintain the dominate influence. I am weakened by your energy.

It’s a hostile attack – Silence. Oh, I know the poison and injury of words, but silence, silence is an insidious weapon. Silence frees the aggressor of all responsibility. He says nothing, he does nothing. How can he be the aggressor? An act of passive aggression. With silence the recipient measures out the meaning. Disapproval, lack of interest, punishment or maybe a case of emotional blackmail. It seems to me that I have been controlled without any orders or instructions. Subliminal dictatorship; resulting in self flagellation. I feel the daemons raise within me, the not quite good enough child, slowly kicking at a pebble, to hide the truth behind the bowed head and slumped shoulders. The adult diagnosis of low self-esteem resets the child’s clumsy interpretation of, ‘Am I enough to matter’ or more bitingly, ‘Am I unlovable’.

Days change, moods lighten in sporadic moments, and hope rises as I search for the invisible cord which holds us together. Glimpses of life returning. Polite talk meets with some civility. We keep it safe and simple with short discussions about meals and the weather.

I take my trepidation to the side of your bed to ask if you want me to leave. The slight pause before you respond reminds me of a guillotine waiting to fall. No, you say kindly. I am here to rest; I need to feel peaceful again, I need thoughts which do not insist on urgency. I have come here for the silence. The silence is my healing.

Silence: transforms its meaning. Silence to me had been hostile. Silence to him meant peace and rejuvenation. Silence had caused me to panic and clutter my mind. Silence had allowed him to still his mind and revitalize.

We do get to know each other through exchanging words; sharing ideas; finding common ground or simply entertaining each other. Enough similarities and sames are offset by some opposition to keep it all interesting. Friendships are based on that. The right combination of similarities and differences. The exact formula might only be decided as the X factor. Words can be a distraction. We can master social etiquettes and manipulate our words to gain approval or acceptance. We can hide and protect or even misrepresent ourselves with our words.

To feel comfortable in another’s presence, through extended periods of silence, can be confusing and confronting. Initially, I had misinterpreted the silence. I struggled to get comfortable with it and wanted to challenge it. My biggest mistake was in viewing it as disconnection. Finally, I understand that comfortable silence is what changes a friendship into a relationship. The ease of simply being, rather than the need to be doing; this is where the true comfort lies. In a way it really is a matter of trust. To allow another to be within your personal space is the true measure of intimacy.


Copyright Sonya Green
www.reinventingmyself.com
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