“Let me tell you this: if you meet a loner, no matter what they tell you, it’s not because they enjoy solitude. It’s because they have tried to blend into the world before, and people continue to disappoint them.”

― Jodi Picoult

I experienced three types of silence in my life on Earth: the inability to speak, the silence after talking, and solitude. My surprise was that even though they were all related to the same principle—quietness, the meaning of each was so different in my experience.

The inability to speak was soaked in tears, strangled my breath, made it hard to swallow my words, and scratched my throat all the way down to my guts. It was mixed with fear and disappointment, almost breathless, and silent.

The silence after talking was releasing and came with a big exhale from all the words that had been held in my mouth, with fresh air replacing the space from where they had come out. But then came questions, and everything got mixed up in my head. I wondered if what was said was not understood correctly and if the message was not received for its true value. The silence made a louder noise in my head, and it came with regrets and questions that sought answers.

And the last one, and probably the most important, was solitude. Time and space stopped there, and there was only silence and me. There was no place to escape, no place to hide, just me with the truth in front. That place in time brought all the words unspoken and all the conversations said, and all around were voices that wanted to speak their truth. When every voice finished what they had to say, a pleasant motionless vibration made it possible to be by myself. The peace and the nothingness were the keys I had been asking for in every language I knew. For a moment of truth, it was just me, and finally, the silence had no sound.

“I’ve begun to realize that you can listen to silence and learn from it. It has a quality and a dimension all its own.”
― Chaim Potok

Noise and silence came together, and I couldn’t have one without the other. Complementary things always come in opposite pairs, and just like light with dark, good with bad, up and down, silence comes with noise in the same way. I couldn’t separate them because in continuous noise, there would be chaos, and in infinite silence, there would be no life anymore. The equilibrium of all things in nature came with an opposite or with contrast. How could I see a white spot without a black background or a moon without a dark sky? The question was, for us, for humans, what was our contrast? Another human being?

The contrast of another human being has always been a significant factor in our lives. It was through our interactions, relationships, and connections with others that we truly defined and understood ourselves.

I often found myself contemplating this intricate dance of contrast. It was as if each person I met was a different color on the palette of life. Their unique perspectives, experiences, and personalities added depth and richness to the canvas of existence. In the presence of others, I discovered shades of myself that I might never have encountered in solitude.

Conversations, both profound and mundane, became the threads that wove the fabric of our shared human experience. We challenged, inspired, and comforted one another. Sometimes, these interactions were harmonious, creating beautiful symphonies of understanding and empathy. Other times, they clashed like dissonant notes in an unfinished composition, forcing me to confront aspects of myself that I’d rather ignore.

Through the prism of human relationships, I saw reflections of my own desires, fears, and aspirations. The contrasting qualities of others illuminated the contours of my identity, helping me refine my beliefs and values.

Yes, another human being was indeed our contrast, our counterpart, and our complement in this grand symphony of existence. They were the dynamic force that propelled us forward, shaping our journey and adding meaning to our lives.

“All I insist on, and nothing else, is that you should show the whole world that you are not afraid. Be silent, if you choose; but when it is necessary, speak – and speak in such a way that people will remember it. “

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

The heartbeat was the medical sign that proved to me I was still alive, a thunderous drum that echoed through my being. But, many times I felt like I was dying before my heart stopped pounding, and that was when I stopped living my life the way I wanted. It was uncomfortable to live by the book and without any rules; it had no destination. Somehow, in that deafening beat, I found my rhythm, and that was what kept me alive. I couldn’t have a life without a heartbeat, and a heartbeat without life was just a waste of energy. Before I left this life on Earth, I hoped those waves were made in bold lines, each beating a resounding roar. I wanted to make that heart beat so loud, to feel alive, and to forget that the final destination was just a silent straight line that didn’t follow any beat. When the line straightened up, there would be no more time for music, no regrets, and no destination, just silence with no sound.

“My personal hobbies are reading, listening to music, and silence.”
― Edith Sitwell

The silence was in the moon that silently observed the lovers from afar and shone over their bedcovers. The silence was between two soundtracks on the playlist that increased the suspense and the curiosity for the unknown. The silence was the pause between one and another, between the unknown and never forgetting, the comma between thoughts, the empty spaceline before end words. After silence was always a mystery. Did something more come, or was that the last chapter? Silence was the space where souls touched each other, understood their own language, and their hearts spoke volumes. That was the only silence people would remember because when silence was love, it sounded the loudest.

In the tapestry of my life, silence was the thread that wove its way through every moment, every thought, and every emotion. It taught me that in the absence of sound, our hearts and souls speak their truest language. It revealed the profound beauty in the spaces between words, where understanding and connection flourished. I realized that silence is not merely the absence of noise; it’s a canvas where our deepest feelings and most cherished memories are painted. It’s a bridge between souls, a source of solace, and a reminder that sometimes, the loudest messages are conveyed in the quietest moments. So, in the end, I found that silence was not empty; it was a symphony of unspoken love, wisdom, and the essence of life itself.

“He who does not understand your silence will probably not understand your words.”
― Elbert Hubbard

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