It’s Election Day in America and on a day when people are figuratively exercising their voice at the ballot box, here I am trapped in literal silence. I lost my voice about two weeks ago, and it’s been rough to say the least. It’s just that I have so much to say! Growing up my mom used to say, Samuel sometimes I think you just talk to hear yourself talk. She’s not wrong! I ran into a friend at church who noticed my raspy voice and even she recommended “voice rest”. She also suggested that perhaps this might be an opportunity to listen more. Talk less. Listen more. Imagine the things I might learn. Practicing silence is like holding space for truth, compassion, and grace, all the good things we need but are too busy or noisy to receive.

In our current social and political climate, I think there’s a missing space for silence. If you watch the news it seems as if everyone has an opinion and we’re pretty divided. Even on my own extended family text chain there’s seeds of discontent. So what are we to do? On the one hand, it feels inadequate to refrain from sharing a deeply held belief or opinion. Because after all, I’m right and you’re wrong, and otherwise how do I convince you? On the other hand, does “convincing people” actually work? All we’re really communicating is, I’d rather be right than be in relationship.

I don’t know how we move beyond our current state, but I do know that these past few weeks have offered me a glimpse into what the language of silence communicates. Silence can communicate a lot of things, but quite often it signals respect, vulnerability, and connection. More can be said without mere words if we’re paying attention. Imagine a friend who sits in silence with another friend in their moment of grief. No words are necessary. Just their presence and the warm envelope of silence which conveys everything you need to know in that moment. We might be at our collective best when words aren’t getting in the way.

So, no matter what the day may bring I look forward to holding space for myself and the people around me. May silence be our comfort, joy, and the connective tissue that finally brings us together.

SDW3