One challenge that is inherent in blog writing (and keeping to a schedule) is that, inevitably, there will come a time where I feel like I have nothing to say. You know the feeling, being physically tired, emotionally tired, just tired. Today is one of those days. I just don’t think I have much to say.
There was a time in my life where I felt the pressure to talk, as in I thought I had to talk all the time because to me, quiet was SOOOOOOO uncomfortable. If there was silence in a conversation, well, I had to fill it, because I was afraid that if I wasn’t talking, there was no reason for a friend to stay with me, to not be bored. Or even worse, I would have to sit with the thoughts that are constantly swirling around in my head. So I would make something, anything up, just to fill in the silence.
But this past year (oh, 2020 how we cannot forget you, no matter how hard we try) has taught me a lot about silence. About needing my own silence. About sitting with a struggling friend in their silence. About me being silent because I didn’t have words for my feelings. I learned that silence is okay, even healthy. Maybe, in a small way, I began to crave a little.
So tonight, I’m imagining that you are here, across from the table with me. We are each holding a steaming cup of tea. Mine is licorice, yours is a berry type. You add sugar to yours. I refill my mug with hot water a few times. And the comfortable pauses in our conversation are not painful or strained. They are calming. Natural. They give us the break to formulate a new thought, or think of a book to talk about, or remember a funny story about something.
Tonight is our comfortable break. I don’t have a lot to say. That’s okay. I’d love to hear what’s on your mind though, but I won’t be pushy. We can just sit here together, sipping out mugs of hot tea (and enjoying some leftover birthday cake.)
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