“I want to write a novel about silence. The things people don’t say.”
— Virginia Woolf
Some of us talk enough to fill volumes. We expound on so many different topics and fill the air around us with words. Yet so many of them are empty. We refrain from saying what’s really going on inside. When it comes to being vulnerable, we become silent at best. By this, I don’t necessarily mean that we don’t show emotion. I could talk for hours about things that make me weepy or make me angry. Those things for many are merely the scab with which we cover our wounds. So often when we cry or rage, we are not doing it about the topics that really matter. More often it means that someone has come close to a vulnerable area and we are desperately holding up signs that say “Here there be dragons” in the hope either that someone will either back off. Perhaps we have a greater hope that they won’t and that they can whether the emotional smokescreen to expose the injury beneath and thus offer healing. Yet we pull back and hold those areas in silence. Yes our speech may fill volumes but our silences can fill buildings.
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