Some people can’t stand the silence. These people must fill every breath of everyday
with some sort of audible noise. Stories, opinions and observations. Mostly about what
has happened in their own lives. After all, we are certainly all experts in ourselves, or so
we like to think. I am not one a massive talker. I am for the most part a listener, an
observer, a reflector.

I don’t know how hold I was when I realised that for the most part people are, unless
paid professionals, relatively uninterested in mine or any other body’s lives unless that
person’s life is significant to the person talking about them and therefore becomes an
extension of their existence too. We talk about others for the most part in relation to

I do not begrudge anybody this. The gravity of our universe must be, and always will be,
at our core. I am just acutely aware that this is the case. As a writer and poet it helps me
immensely to simply listen to others. Stories need characters, poems need perspectives
and the world and the creatures living in it are so weird, wonderful and complex that I
enjoy getting insights into their worlds as much as trying to figure out my own, if not
more so.

Although I do enjoy absorbing other people’s stories, listening is not a passive activity. It
can be draining. This is why silence for me is golden. I am an internal, reflective thinker.
I treasure moments of solitude when I can. Those are the times when I find my centre,
my rhythm in life. Perhaps that’s why I enjoy performing and writing.
Nobody can interrupt a book, only put it down. Even if a play is interrupted, the script
when written, is done with no interjections. Perhaps one of the reasons I perform is
because in those moments, the stage is mine. I have permission to talk without

For some reason I find talking at length in everyday conversation is almost
embarrassing. Like in this blog. Now that I have my time, in front of this screen. Calming
classical moving playing in the background. I get the chance to say what I want in
silence. I’d be interested to know what you think about silence. Do get in touch if you
have any thoughts you’d like to share.

See, I’m back in listening mode again. I had the thought the other day that words are
only sounds. They sound like words but they are actually just sounds. It’s human touch
and action that grounds. They are not hot air. They mean something. Take care.

Til the next line,

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