Silence is Golden

By Alex Cohen

Last week I had a laser procedure on my vocal cords to help decrease the inflammation caused by my chronic laryngitis. I was instructed by my doctor that in order to heal properly, I would not be allowed to speak for 2-3 days after the surgery.

I thought this would be easy.

I was wrong.

The first few hours after the procedure, I communicated with my friends by writing on a small dry erase board – but soon realized my thoughts were moving much faster than my handwriting. Typing on my phone was even slower. I had lunch with a friend later that day, who patiently read my questions and comments on my small whiteboard. I was aware of how much I appreciated her patience in that moment.

A few things happened in the two days where not one sound came from my mouth.

First, I noticed that people spoke to me very loudly. Frustrated, I would write on my little white board, “I’m not deaf, I just can’t speak!”  They would also try to exaggerate the mouthing of the words as they spoke so I could read their lips – again, I wasn’t deaf!

Something very strange also happened in those two days of silence. I started to pay attention to my surroundings and began to notice things that I had not noticed before.  At lunch, instead of jabbering on, I ate without interruption.  I actually chewed my food without stopping to say something; I really “tasted” the food and was aware of how delicious it was.  While my girlfriend spoke, I just listened. I heard every word she said without commenting until she was done, and I only chimed in if I felt like I had something I needed to say. I felt I was present in the moment.

That same night I went to dinner with a group of seven of my closest friends at one of my favorite restaurants. My friends all heckled me throughout the meal and tried to get me going, but I was determined to not fall for it. I wrote down what I could to participate in the conversation, but once the food came I had to put my board down. Not to mention my pen ran out – everyone got a laugh out of that one. I may have even heard applause.

As I sat there at our round table I looked around and truly took in what I was seeing. I was surrounded by all of my dearest friends and noticed how everyone was talking and laughing and loving every moment of the dinner. We could have been anywhere – we were just a group of friends spending time together, having another great dinner.  The difference for me was that because I could not participate in the conversation, I sat back, just watched, and took it all in.

It warmed my heart that I had somehow brought all of these people into each other’s lives – we are family. At that very moment I realized that I am blessed and very much loved. No matter how much they teased or picked on me. I am sure they could all see the smile on my lips and they knew what I knew; we were all meant to be friends (besides, who else would put up with us?)

That night when I got home I still could not speak. My husband kept trying to make me laugh by asking me, “Are you mad at me? You haven’t spoken to me all day.” He told me how his day went and sat with me in the sitting room watching TV. I listened to his every word and just quietly enjoyed his company.  The next morning I woke up and instead of waking him up with my usual “Honey, are you up?”  I rolled over and gently touched his shoulder; I imagine this was a much nicer way to wake, less jarring, more tender.

I didn’t go to work the following day as I still could not speak. Instead, I stayed home and practiced my KonMari, the Japanese art of tidying up.  I worked all day cleaning out my sitting room, which was overflowing with stuff. In turn I spent the day decluttering not only my space but also my head.  My silence kept me from answering the phone and abandoning my project midway, and once I was really on a cleaning roll not even my email distracted me.

So this month, I encourage you to practice the art of silence.  You will find that you pay more attention to the little things, you become a much better listener, and you can stop and see what is right in front of you. All of these things will bring you so much joy and gratitude.  Stopping to smell the flowers is one thing but if you are jabbering away while you are doing it – you miss the point.

Challenge yourself; if you can take the vow of silence for just one day, do it.  Become an observer, become a listener, live in the moment and see how you feel.  I hope you find it to be as meaningful an experience as I did. I feel much more grateful and rejuvenated after my two days of silence, and I learned something incredibly important; I am a lucky woman and I don’t need my voice to express it, because I feel it in my heart.