The silent treatment

I’ve wondered why people find silence so uncomfortable.   We live in a noisy world, and yet a lot of people seem to feel strange when it stops.

True enough, some kinds of silence can be unnerving.  We have all been treated to cold silence, the hollow spot where words used to be.  Perhaps we have made a comment, and it just hangs in the air.  This is the silent treatment:  more than just the absence of words, somebody has made a one sided choice to shut down communication.  It is intended to disturb us, or at least to allow it, an unstated rejection.   We give the silent treatment to people we trust to notice, and to care.  Being ignored is exasperating, as there is no way to make sense of it, or to respond.   That’s the point.  Why do people choose cold silence over a gracious exit?

One possibility: the silent treatment can be a form of aggression that can later be denied.  After all, there is no record of angry words or rejection.   It is meant to keep options open.  The hurt is real, but there is no accountability.   How crazy does it make you when the silent one shows up later in a cheery state of mind, or a long overdue text message surfaces, as if nothing had happened?  Oops, sorry, busy?  Another possibility: the silent treatment can be an emotional withdrawal, when it is not safe to speak.  Perhaps the silent person fears retaliation if they answer honestly, or feels discouraged that anyone is listening.  Perhaps the anger or hurt are too raw for conversation.   In all of these cases, something important is hanging in the air.  No wonder people dread silence, if in their experience, it starts with confusion and ends in crisis.

But really, It’s not the silence that is dreadful, it’s the rejection.  Think of quiet moments that have been too spectacular for words: great music, a mountainscape, the intimacy shared with someone close.   These moments may not only allow silence, but require it, because there are no words to do them justice.   If there is silence between friends or colleagues, it doesn’t have to mean that they have run out of things to say to one another, or signal an offense beyond fixing.   Perhaps they have just gone adrift in a loose moment of gratitude or creative disengagement.   No telling what meditative thoughts may surface during a moment of shared silence.  It may feel like a risk, but offer an unexpected gift.


About Lynn Schlossberger

I am a mental health counselor, writer and photographer living in Baton Rouge, Louisiana.
This entry was posted in Depression, Relationships, Spirituality and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to The silent treatment

  1. LindaLou says:

    I love your site and this post, that silence can be used as a form of rejection and aggression. That is so true. I can think back and remember personal accounts of my own. I addressed the subject of silence in conversations from a slightly different angle (somewhat humorous point of view) in my post below:

    I would love to get your feedback. It is brief.

  2. Thanks Linda Lou, between us we have noticed quite a variety of kinds of silence. You’re quite a storyteller! I love the quote from Ecclesiastes, “a time to speak and a time to be silent” (turn turn turn). I love the reminders in several of your comments that silence is not empty, and words are not always an improvement. Lovely blog! I’ll be back.

    • LindaLou says:

      I’m glad you enjoyed reading my post, and evidently found it a worthwhile read. As you probably know, the Bible has a whole lot to say about good emotional health, and I imagine it’s along the same lines as many of the things you emphasize in your practice. So I am definitely interested in seeing just how much we agree.

  3. Pingback: Most popular posts of 2010, and a question (well, two). Please read. | Insight*

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s