Comfortable Silence To allow another to be within your personal space is the true measure of intimacy.
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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
have considered, but the harshness of your dismissal would have crushed me. I
took the safest road and asked, “How are you?” "Tired." you replied, closing me
down by walking away.
I watched you slyly and silently, studying you and waiting for a cue to approach
you. I misunderstood your muttering to yourself, thinking you had called me in to
your thoughts at last. Your icy stare told me that I had interrupted you again. I
felt 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 manage 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 2008

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