The Power of Silence. Or, Risking Authenticity.

I'm sitting in the sun on a warm spring afternoon, on the deck overlooking a recently-greened vineyard. There are the usual background noises: feint bird chirps, a caw of a crow, the very distant hum of cars making their way up the asphalt ribbon of 101 North-South. What makes this all notable, is the literal absence of the city cacophony.

No angry car horns. No city hum. No human chatter.

It is powerful. It is the power of silence. 

And yet, in the company of others, and in the therapy setting, silence can make us, well, a little...uncomfortable. 

Filling the void with voice. In this age of burgeoning communication options--cell phones, voice mail, texts, tweets, Instagrams (and yes, I'm certain I've forgotten others)--the need to be saying something--anything!--seems to be overwhelming us with words and pictures.  

The same seems true in the therapy office, at times.  Early on in my training as a therapist, I was encouraged to use silence as an intervention--a tool--to allow my clients to go deeper into their story.  Almost always, that first foray in to voicelessness was met with fidgeting clients asking, what do you want me to say next?

Of course, it wasn't about what I wanted at all but, more accurately, what comes up when we're actually allowed to simply be in the moment with our thoughts. To not be prompted, replied to, affirmed, judged or otherwise cued by another as to the worthiness of our sentence.  

Buried treasure. It seems that we are often so eager to either garner a response or to offer one, that a thought left hanging in the air is a rarer and rarer thing these days.  A luxury, of sorts. But, given space to breathe and expand, one's thoughts, ideas, stories and true feelings often emerge, like artifacts long buried, only now unearthed.

In the therapeutic conversation it is simple yet, again powerful. And I often marvel at the profound and moving things that clients share, when simply given the room to do so. 

Perhaps that's why silence can be scary at times. Because, in the absence of another person's word, the invitation to continue is implied. And, for some, it's uncharted territory: I didn't hear you comment. What do you think about what I said? Was I right? Do you agree? Do you approve of me? Silence is the green light to go ahead, but without the safety net of another's approval (or even disapproval--at least you know where you stand!).

The gift of not saying a word. In our hectic lives, how often do our friends, family, colleagues, even strangers give us the chance to muse, without comment?  My guess is, not often. So, it's not surprising that, given the gift, we're sometimes unclear about how to proceed. And yet, left to our own discourse, we will almost always find resolution on our own.

Here's an idea: take the leap. Venture a deeper thought. A more novel idea: make room in your conversation with a friend for him or her to keep going. Give them room to muse, think, come to an authentic conclusion. Ok, they might think you're giving them the silent treatment, so use the least intrusive prompt you can: Go on.

You might be surprised with how the conversation unfolds. And if, as I've endorsed before, you are truly listening to understand and not to win or persuade, you are likely to learn a great deal about your friend--and possibly about your friendship.

Until next time, thanks for listening.