When Silence is Golden

            I love reading. I was the kid who used to get in trouble in school for reading under the desk instead of paying attention in class. I even tried to set my room up as a library once. I organized my desk and made my dad come in and check one of my books out. Luckily, he returned it before I had to issue him a late fine.

            I read for many reasons. Sometimes it’s to relax. Sometimes it’s to learn. Sometimes it’s because I’m a glutton for emotional punishment (seriously, some plots just make me anxious and I read the book anyway because I need to know how it ends!). Very, very rarely do I leave a book unfinished and I usually have three or four books going at once (I’m not advocating this…I think it probably contributes to my memory issues).

            In a recent issue of a magazine I love to read, Flow, they talked about reading retreats. People go on retreats and read together. I imagined the quiet of this room with only the sound of pages turning and the occasional clearing of a throat. It sounds divine. My husband and I have been practicing a nightly ritual of reading together. He sits in the chair on one side of the room and I usually sit on the couch and we read for about half an hour together. It’s quiet and relaxing, and I love that we can spend that time together.

            I think what I enjoy most about that time together is the quiet. It’s the fact that we can sit in the same room together and be comfortable being quiet together. There’s no pressure to talk (though, I admit, the cats can be very distracting!). We have other experiences together where we talk and share stories or listen to music, but this reading time is quiet.

             In Luke 9, Jesus asks the disciples who people say that he is. Some say he’s Elijah, some say John the Baptist. This is the passage where Peter famously says, “You are God’s messiah.” But the first line of the story is that Jesus was praying in private and his disciples were with him (Luke 9:18). The story opens with Jesus and his disciples spending time together in quiet. That sounds like a sacred space.

            The experience of being quiet with someone shows a kind of comfort with someone that I think is really special. Speech is an important form of communication; but the ability to simply sit and be with someone is an important form of communication, too. I think of the times I’ve sat with someone who was grieving. Words are not always what are needed. Sometimes, what’s really needed is someone to simply be present with you. I've heard this called the ministry of presence.

            Sometimes we fill a space with words because we are uncomfortable with silence. Learning to let silence exist is an art, and it can be learned if it doesn't come naturally to you. And for sure, silence can be a relationship-killer, especially when words are what is needed. In all of our relationships, we learn the different sounds of silence. As the writer of Ecclesiastes reminds us, there is a time for everything: a time to be silent and a time to speak.

            I treasure moments of silence in my relationships and the comfort I know exists in those quiet spaces. I also treasure the talks I have with people and the stories we share together. Where do you see silence in your relationships as a gift? Where do you see silence as a danger? Do you and your partner have deliberate times of silence together?

You have a grand gift for silence, Watson. It makes you quite invaluable as a companion.

– Sherlock Holmes