Personal Musing:
There’s a kind of silence that feels sacred…and then there’s the silence that feels like abandonment. I used to cherish my quiet mornings. The stillness before the world woke up felt like prayer. But lately, silence has felt different. It’s been showing up in places where there used to be laughter, conversation, connection. It’s not just the absence of noise…it’s the weight of what’s not being said. The texts that aren’t coming. The calls that stopped. The words I wish I had the courage to say, sitting heavy on my chest like bricks.
But even in this uncomfortable quiet, I’m learning to listen. To sit still and hear me. My ache. My hope. My healing. The silence has a lesson, even when it hurts. And today, I’m leaning into it, not running from it.
Maybe healing isn’t about always filling the gaps…but letting them breathe. Maybe the silence is part of the conversation.
Writing Prompt: What is your silence trying to tell you?
Write a letter to the quiet moments in your life. What do you hear when you stop trying to fix or fill them?
