Hi Sue. Thank you for writing such a reflective and touching essay. Silence is a topic that I've pondered long and hard on but did not reach deep enough to uncover some these gems. On the 2nd reading, I took some notes:
This made me feel...
Like I was standing at the edge of something ancient and unmapped—your words invited me into a silence I’ve long romanticized but often resisted. The way you described silence not as serenity, but as storm, gave me a different lens. It made me feel both seen and summoned.
This reminds me of...
The phrase: “Silence isn’t empty—it’s full of answers.”
But your piece reminded me it’s also full of everything we’ve refused to feel. The line between silence as refuge and silence as reckoning is thinner than we think. And once crossed, there's no way back to the softer version of ourselves untouched by that depth.
This is something I’ll be sitting with...
“The very silence that awakens our deepest sorrows also offers the space we need to truly feel them.”
That paradox speaks to something primal. That healing doesn’t come from escape—it comes from presence. I’ll be asking myself: What part of my silence have I mistaken for peace, when it’s actually avoidance dressed in quiet?
Thank you for writing with such depth and daring. This piece will echo for a while.
Matt I appreciate your response. I'm so glad it resonates and that you will sit with this. I've been sitting in silence for many decades and it was always a treasure of sorts for me to escape the monotony and noise. But recently I've experienced something deeply heartbreaking with an insurmountable loss. And this has called that longing for silence into question for me because the silence now means I will be forced to be with this in a way I may not be ready to.
If you've been teetering at the brink of this then yes it is likely you have been at the edge of something unmapped . I think we all are at the edge until we touch the silence in this visceral way that forces us inward to discover so much profundity from deep within.
There is a very fine line between refuge and reckoning and obviously where we find ourselves in life right now will force us or pull us towards one or the other.
When life is just simply challenging or going wonderfully it is such a magical experience to go into the quiet with a surrender of sorts.
For me right now it's been hard and not as inviting, but being in quietude is such a huge part of me at this point it's nearly impossible not to.
I hope you will tap into that primal part of you and discover all the magic that there is to discover in the quiet.
Thanks Bradley. Appreciate your thoughtful response. I know this resonates for you and it's so awesome you are checking out so you can check in and let it all pour in. So good for us to do this.
Hi Sue. Thank you for writing such a reflective and touching essay. Silence is a topic that I've pondered long and hard on but did not reach deep enough to uncover some these gems. On the 2nd reading, I took some notes:
This made me feel...
Like I was standing at the edge of something ancient and unmapped—your words invited me into a silence I’ve long romanticized but often resisted. The way you described silence not as serenity, but as storm, gave me a different lens. It made me feel both seen and summoned.
This reminds me of...
The phrase: “Silence isn’t empty—it’s full of answers.”
But your piece reminded me it’s also full of everything we’ve refused to feel. The line between silence as refuge and silence as reckoning is thinner than we think. And once crossed, there's no way back to the softer version of ourselves untouched by that depth.
This is something I’ll be sitting with...
“The very silence that awakens our deepest sorrows also offers the space we need to truly feel them.”
That paradox speaks to something primal. That healing doesn’t come from escape—it comes from presence. I’ll be asking myself: What part of my silence have I mistaken for peace, when it’s actually avoidance dressed in quiet?
Thank you for writing with such depth and daring. This piece will echo for a while.
Matt I appreciate your response. I'm so glad it resonates and that you will sit with this. I've been sitting in silence for many decades and it was always a treasure of sorts for me to escape the monotony and noise. But recently I've experienced something deeply heartbreaking with an insurmountable loss. And this has called that longing for silence into question for me because the silence now means I will be forced to be with this in a way I may not be ready to.
If you've been teetering at the brink of this then yes it is likely you have been at the edge of something unmapped . I think we all are at the edge until we touch the silence in this visceral way that forces us inward to discover so much profundity from deep within.
There is a very fine line between refuge and reckoning and obviously where we find ourselves in life right now will force us or pull us towards one or the other.
When life is just simply challenging or going wonderfully it is such a magical experience to go into the quiet with a surrender of sorts.
For me right now it's been hard and not as inviting, but being in quietude is such a huge part of me at this point it's nearly impossible not to.
I hope you will tap into that primal part of you and discover all the magic that there is to discover in the quiet.
Thank you again for your very thoughtful words.
What a gift is silence--to be able to draw from its well whenever we choose.
You are right, though: it's not always conciliatory. Necessary, yes.
I've been resorting to it a lot--leaving my phone behind, seeking solitude, letting the universe pour in.
Great post, Sue.
Thanks Bradley. Appreciate your thoughtful response. I know this resonates for you and it's so awesome you are checking out so you can check in and let it all pour in. So good for us to do this.