Over the past few years, I had many experiences of silent retreats as humanity took shelter from what I always call the “manufactured pandemic” that held our world captive. Not all bad, in some ways, I had the opportunity to reflect on the power of silence and subsequent responses elicited from people. Some embrace silence and I am one of them. However, the retreat experience, dominated by silence, reminded me of all that people keep bottled up inside and find difficult to share, with anyone.

We all have friends who bond over similar family struggles, feeling shocked and hurt by what others have had to endure. There is some element of solace in that shared pain and we often wonder why it takes us so long to open up. These experiences are not uncommon. Even with family and close friends, we mindfully leave out important details, or refrain from sharing certain experiences altogether and escape to our silent, mental, escape room.

There are those many things we don’t talk about. On social media, at dinner parties or in private conversations with friends. At least most of us don’t. The truths and experiences we keep hidden are like hand-written notes, safely tucked away between pages of a book that we will never read again. The potential healing available in silence and being with our difficult thoughts is not always pleasant or comfortable and this is one of the reasons that many people avoid sharing with others. Using silence, both positively and negatively, when we communicate can influence our relations. Many of us have that fear of not being validated and can usually recognize the difference between a disapproving silence and that which confirms that what we are saying is truly being listened to by others.

By sharing only what feels appropriate, safe, comfortable or absolutely necessary, we dilute the vulnerability and intimacy that is integral to our survival, concealing those human frailties that have the power to connect us beyond our physical, cultural, social and other distinctions. This makes us all alone together, each holding onto something that could be used to build a bridge between us. Yet, there is so much space.

We keep things to ourselves because we want to preserve our sense of self. Because we need to maintain our place in the world and feel a sense of safety. Because we want to protect the people we love. We keep things to ourselves for fear of judgement and rejection. Because we are not ready to confront or bear the consequences of our own truths. What we don’t talk about makes homes inside of us, growing like weeds in the garden of our memories. Sometimes, they keep us up in the middle of the night and manifest as physical pain. We end up paying a price for what should be released, our peace of mind, our well-being and our capacity to share love. Our greatest fear lies in being seen for who we truly are. If we truly see each other, we are exposed, less in control and definitely more vulnerable. Saying that we are well helps us to avoid the reality of the present moment, something oddly comforting, and it is self-preservation.

It is clear that silence has power, along with being the absence of noise.. Like any power it can be used to hurt or to heal and perhaps this is why people respond so variably to it. For some people silence means loneliness, isolation or awkwardness. It can be used to indicate emotional withdrawal, disapproval or even punishment. In our language the word silence is often used with negative connotations; a conspiracy of silence, being given the silent treatment, lifting the veil of silence. In our busy, noisy world many people seem to fear silence.

We all dream about different realities, a world where truths can be shared, where friends can tell each other they are feeling defeated, sad, anxious or alone, without worrying about what the others may think, things people really should talk about but nobody wants to do so. Holding back our truths can be so much more harmful than sharing them. When we avoid being real, we contribute to a distorted reality. We cannot heal wounds if we fail to acknowledge them and, in the process, we end up with a difficult time accepting each other. Siblings and friends with decades of hurt that has lingered between them, so much so, that the idea of reaching out feels impossible. One can be surrounded by people, belong to an organization, yet still feel so deeply alone. It’s doubtful that we can transform loneliness by simply being together, sharing space and meaningful conversations.

Honesty and unconditional love where communication is concerned can help us find our way back to ourselves and each other. Build bridges that reconnect us with those we love and create space for others to do the same.

From the Writer’s Workshop: What does nobody want to talk about, but really should?