Terrifying quiescence


Admit it, that small space between the word ‘Silence’ and this text was a bit unnerving. We don’t like silence. And really we shouldn’t. It is frightening. After all, we are left alone with our thoughts. What is more dreadful?

We like to be busy for in the maelstrom of sound we can not hear our self-doubt, self-condemnation. We can not see our shortcomings if we hurl work before our eyes. We can not smell the pungent fears that waft around the caverns of our soul. We don’t have to stand against the twilight of the spirit when we just run from it.

Running from these terrors does not, can not, defeat them. Instead, they grow, swell, unnoticed and ignored. Fears and sorrows ferment in the darkness. We may not hear them, see them, anymore, but beneath the din and flurry they influence how we live. They bubble to the surface, blighted and putrid. Soon, we don’t know why we accept a mate who treats us like garbage. We can’t seem to figure out why people can’t stand us. We can’t fathom how our lives turned out like this.

Which is precisely why we must find silence.

As soon as the clamor ends, the shades are there, stronger than before. We find ourselves overwhelmed. Besieged.

Quiescent, we enter into the caverns of the soul. Their way is barred to the vociferous, the clamant. Within, shadows lurk. True, they may be fearsome. It is, however, only here that they may be defeated.

It is no coincidence that God chose to be heard in the whisper, no coincidence that we are told to be still and know. Silence is our sanctuary. It is a bastion. It must be defended at all costs, and defended from within silence itself.

Silence alone allows us to hear God’s voice, casting out umbral terrors. “Ugly,” say the shadows. “Beautiful,” says God. “Not good enough”, “Perfect”. “Coward”, “Hero(ine)”.


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