The Sound of Silence

The Sound of Silence


It’s not something easy to talk about about. Sometimes it feels shameful, secretive and too heavy to voice with loved ones.

Loneliness is a disease in itself. It takes the joy out of the innocence of the pure goodness in life. Every happy moment dulled by this unshakeable strangling state of being.

I suffered with loneliness for quite a few months last year. Some might call it depression, but it felt more achey, more starving, more desperate. My loneliness was always searching for more. Always wanting the next opportunity to take it away and dissolve its powerful hold.

All the beautiful souls I became friends with during that time were also heavily dulled in the same abscess of loneliness I was feeling. Loneliness with their partners, loneliness with their careers, loneliness with their sense of who they were and what they’d contributed in life. Last year was heavy. I found myself watching days go by within a blink of the eye. Constantly in my head trying to find something to cling to that would take me out of that place.

Opportunities came and I grasped at them, until I realised I was using them to shove down the loneliness and make myself distracted in the doing of something that seemed more productive than staring at the palm trees on my balcony.

I was lonely within myself. I lost my purpose, my willingness to share with the world. I was disconnected with my family and shrinking further and further into myself to try to disappear from existence.

I shoved the loneliness down with other people’s projects, with wine and Netflix marathons.

Then I finally turned to the loneliness and started listening to what it needed, what it desperately was wanting me to do.

Take care of it. Love it. Grieve it. Just be with it.

So I did. And slowly it started to fade. Different friends came into my life that showed me connection, honesty and vulnerability that I had been too afraid to turn towards. I found a community that I could be my lonely little emotional self with and who loved me anyway.

Something shifted. The victimised lonely story I was living from couldn’t handle the pathetic way of being anymore.

Something toughened and from one day to the next I couldn’t tolerate who I was being in that way anymore.
I cried, I laughed, I screamed, I wailed until the silence became my nurturing friend and the agonising mind chatter ceased to rule my every waking thought and action.

Loneliness lost its gripping hold and I could breathe, really breathe for the first time in a long time.

I have a deeper respect for loneliness now. I feel it come in from time to time and I turn towards it and ask it what it needs. I give it just enough space to be heard and felt but I don’t hold onto its lies anymore.
When it comes in, it’s now my powerful ally for a deeper truth to emerge that I’m not truly facing. A truth I’m avoiding to meet and take action from its wanting.

The sombre notes and poetic lyrics
of this Simon & Garfunkel song help me move through loneliness and allow me to grieve the sound of silence from within.

“Hello darkness, my old friend
I’ve come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence”

Loneliness is just a messenger of a deeper yearning to be more present and real with ourselves and with others. What often feels like the hardest truth to say is often the most relieving truth to be heard.

The truth is; our people need to know what we are feeling. Our loved ones have a right to experience how our discomfort affects them. It doesn’t mean they have to change it or are responsible for it- but we need to let them in. We can’t suppress our truth and walk around on eggshells worrying we will upset them or cause them suffering. If our loneliness upsets others- it is because there is a resonance of familiarity to loneliness within them that they are uncomfortable experiencing.

My teacher of higher wisdom and truth- Amara Samata, once said to me; “People have a right to their suffering.”

Yes they do. To take that away from somebody is an act of enabling, and this may interrupt them from the necessary path that leads them to their liberation.

People have a right to their suffering.

I needed to wallow in my lonliness until the absolute misery and pathetic victim hood could no longer stand up against, WHO and WHAT I really was in my absolute truth. Loneliness needed me to get damn straight ugly and dull until there was the breaking point of realising I needed support, and I was willing to lose everything to feel more alive than the dull pain of misery I’d been swimming in for months. Loneliness wanted me to face the truth, with the same tenacious belief that I would easily offer my clients when I see the potential that is within them.

We have a right to our suffering.

This doesn’t mean we shouldn’t help those who are in their own mess. It means we need to be more compassionate in giving people back their power in finding their own spirit to live again in more fulfilling and truthful ways.

Why are we suffering? Because something wants to be released, something is begging for our attention to make a change. Something isn’t in alignment with who we are and how we’re living.

Our suffering is our blessing. It’s trying desperately to get our attention to help us navigate a different path or a new way of thinking, feeling, being.

We can drop our seeds of inspiration and offer our words of understanding to those who are suffering- but we have to let go and trust. Trust that every misfortune and every downward spiral always is wanting an upward turn of renegotiating; a new change in perspective; new way of being.

Nothing is wasted. Loneliness is not wasted. All of our inner sufferings lead us to greater truth and discovery- if we are willing to be more responsible and open to this.

“And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more
People talking without speaking
People hearing without listening
People writing songs that voices never share
No one dared
Disturb the sound of silence.”