In the Silence, I Heard Myself
We often talk about finding peace, slowing down, feeling calm. But how many of us truly sit in silence - not just around us, but within?
We live in a world where even two seconds of silence feels awkward. We rush to fill it - with music, with reels, with words, with mindless scrolling. But silence is not the absence of sound. It’s the presence of space. The space where we truly meet ourselves.
As a musician and music therapist, I’ve come to value silence as much as I value sound. Because music is not made of just notes - it is also made of pauses. What if the beauty of a phrase didn’t lie in the note you played, but the one you held back?
Silence gives meaning to sound.
Without silence, music would just be noise.
And perhaps, so would life.
Why are we running away from ourselves?
This is something I ask myself often. And the answer is simple, yet unsettling.
We don’t want to be alone with our thoughts.
We fear what might come up if we sit still. So we distract ourselves. We jump from one app to another, one notification to the next, numbing ourselves with constant input. Somewhere in this race, we’ve forgotten how to just be.
Silence is uncomfortable because it brings us face to face with what we’ve been avoiding — emotions, memories, questions, regrets, longings. But it is also the only space where healing begins.
When I sit in silence, some days I meet joy. Some days I meet fear.
Some days there’s clarity, and some days, chaos.
But at least I meet me.
Music taught me this.
In music, we call it the pause, the rest - a space where the sound lingers in the air. That moment of stillness is not empty, it is sacred.
Even in devotional music, or lullabies, it’s not the words alone that soothe us. It’s the pacing. The pauses. The unhurried silences between the phrases.
Silence allows the sound to reach you.
And the same goes for life.
Stillness is not laziness. Silence is not absence.
We are so used to equating silence with doing nothing, and doing nothing with being useless. But silence is deeply active. It’s the space where creativity brews. Where the mind resets. Where the heart reopens.
I’ve seen it in my therapy sessions, a few minutes of mindful silence can bring up tears, smiles, or realizations that no amount of talking could have achieved. Because in that pause, the person finally hears themselves.
Being with yourself is the most honest, most raw, and most rewarding relationship you can ever have.
And it begins with silence.
A gentle invitation
The next time you feel overwhelmed, overstimulated, or just plain tired - don’t reach for your phone. Don’t play music. Don’t even journal.
Just sit.
Let the silence stretch.
It may feel strange at first. Your mind may resist. But stay.
Breathe.
Let the dust settle.
Let the inner noise surface and pass.
Eventually, in that silence - you might hear a soft voice. One you’ve been ignoring for a while. It’s yours.
