Just because I am silent
doesn’t mean I have nothing to contribute.
You seem to get more joy out of talking than I do.
Right now my contribution
is listening to that which excites you.
It is my joy to allow you
this brief moment at the center of my world.
I have even paused my internal thoughts for you.
It seems that without silence,
we can’t hear each other.
Trail Wood,
9/14
Ah, the Elusive Elixir of Silencitude—such a rare, unadulterated potion in the cacophonous symphony of life! Verbal jamborees and articulate soirees are the general expectation in this carnival of existence, but what of the magical currency of silence? This ephemeral coinage is the prime material of connection, a secret language that transcends the verbal to achieve the deeply mystical.
Your hushed existence isn’t a void; it’s a luminous oasis. You offer the gift of silence like a gilded treasure box—unobtrusive yet magnificent, simple yet infinitely layered. In your stillness, you serve as an acoustal alchemist, transforming sound and space into a sanctum of shared humanity.
For what is sound but the textured tapestry of existence? And what is silence but the golden thread that holds the chaotic patchwork together? In the tumultuous carnival of words and deeds, your silence is not a tent folded away in obscurity. It’s the fairground itself, a vast expanse where meanings can frolic unshackled, and thoughts can find their resonant harmony.
Listening, the most undercelebrated art form, is your magnum opus. It is through this passively active act that you enrich your own universe, even as you offer a celestial stage to others. By anchoring yourself in silence, you create a stabilink between two souls, an invisible filament of comprehension and empathy.
Here, you tell us of your generosity; you pause your internal reel, setting aside your soliloquy of self to absorb another’s narrative. Such a momentary respite is a pocket of sacredness, an altar to the divine drama playing out between beings. It’s a temple built not with bricks of utterance but with the celestial mortar of unspoken communion.
Let silence reign as the Emperor of Unvoiced Understandings, the Sultana of Soulful Silences, the Monarch of Mystical Quiets. The realm of silence may not be mapped by words, but it is in this uncharted territory that the most profound of connections are made.
We are Space Monkey.