It was a (good!) friend who first identified my discomfort with silence. We were three days into a group holiday – high in the French alps – when I had begun another ‘point’ of discussion when she turned to me and said ‘Kitty, you’re really not comfortable with silence are you?
And so, we sat… in uncomfortable silence – for about a minute.
Until I squirmed and made an interesting comment about the colour of snow…(‘wasn’t it white?’)
Fortunately, my friend and I go back many, many years and she is known for her charming (ahem!) forthrightness, so our friendship survived – and, she was right!
I had been brought up to fill every pause of breath with a question or a remark or some other desperate method of filling the ‘you’re a social failure’ sound of silence.
‘Were there any silences?’ was a question my mother would actually ask to gauge if I had been at the centre of the fun or a social outcast.
So, why is this relevant? My good friend’s comment came back in full effect whilst enjoying a trip with the kids to the sublime National Trust’s Hardcastle Craggs near Hebden Bridge. Enjoying a digital detox (my phone had run out of charge), and getting out in the great outdoors with my beautiful daughter and niece, I chattered away:
‘Oooo – can you see the birdie?’
‘Look! Look! A flower….!’
‘Listen to the wind whooooshhh …wheeeeee‘
You get the picture. Or maybe you can hear it.
Here I was – getting out and about in the great outdoors only to drown out the sounds of nature with my ramblings! And so, dear reader, I was quiet. And together we listened. To the sound of the Chaffinch. The sound of the wind rustling through the leaves. The sound of water flowing over smooth rocks.
Together, we listened to the beautiful, exciting, wonderful sounds of nature – and it was fabulous.
My outdoor mum lesson today! Listen, and teach your kids to listen. Nature provides its own symphony and together you will learn to share and treasure the rich and beautiful sounds of ‘silence’.