In defining silence, we fail to recognize its real power, and I am learning that the true power of silence is in holding my voice hostage. Silence has a way of sealing the tongue and reminding the lips that together they are warmer, and apart they stand the chance of getting invaded by flies.
I believe there is a lot more to learn about silence and the hostage of our voices, especially in moments when our hearts need a cry out. Or maybe silence is nothing but a friend that shows up at both the good and the bad times; a friend that nobody asked to come to play. Perhaps silence is just the destination of things right and all things powerless.
However, the thing about silence being the final stop is the lack of quiet that it possesses as its real quality. Silence is loud. Louder than a crowd of people telling you that everything will be okay and honestly louder than I frankly think it needs to be. Silence has never failed in winning an argument and in losing the strength to fight. I believe that silence has a long-standing contract with misery and pain. A contact that is broken but not enough to not exist anymore.
I am learning that depression and anxiety have stops on the silence lane, a lane that tends to travel so far, sometimes there is no end in sight. On some days, I see the boulevard of hope. On other days my tongue has been held hostage, and my heart is trying to negotiate with a terrorist. My heart will not stop until we win this bargain; because in this home, we recognize that sometimes we need a friend like silence to re-evaluate our war strategies.
So today, I will remember to cherish the silence and trust that my heart wins when the time is right.
