Must your every thought and word be heard? I’m afraid my generation and the generations growing up behind me think so. We share everything—on Facebook, on Twitter, in our blogs, through Instagrams. And then we wait for a reaction—for the likes, comments, and all the pretty little stats that tell us we are good, we are heard. It’s a drug, an addiction—a hit that sends endorphins flooding through our brains, lighting up the part of us thirsting for attention and affirmation.
And we find the silence becomes deafening because we just can’t live without the noise, the reaction, the endorphins flooding in and telling us we are heard, we are good.
And we lose the beauty of silence, the sacredness of solitude.
Sometimes our souls need to be alone.
Sometimes we can only begin to hear in the hush.
Sometimes words need to be written but not read.
Sometimes beauty needs to be seen but not captured or shared.
Sometimes we just need to live quietly in a moment or we will lose ourselves in the noise.
My soul needs some silent letters—words written but not shared. Letters penciled into my journal for the soul, not for the reaction. Letters tapped out on my typewriter slowly, carefully with the heavy stoke of each letter hammered in ink to paper—just for me.
Letters and words good and valuable…and ever so quiet….quiet enough to be heard by the soul.
Because not everything I am must be known. Not everything I say must be heard.
My soul needs silence. Solitude. Words written and not read.
Otherwise I will drown and lose myself in the noise.