It is very easy to think that I’m someone who speaks a lot because I’m a journalist, and we’re characterised as mouthy self-important people who don’t care about the feelings of others because we only care about the story.
Sure, not going to lie but there are definitely a few in the industry but I’m not one of them.
News is something I really enjoy and I like speaking to people for the most part but I’m also someone who loves the quiet.
Once I leave work every day, I pretty much don’t say a word, it was something I hadn’t even known about myself until recently but I really like being quiet.
I came to realise just how much I appreciate the quiet and silence after we moved. Currently my mom and I are staying with my grandparents while we find a place.
While it isn’t the first time we’ve been in this situation but it is for the length of time that we’ve been there. Also it’s my first time working while being in Mitchell’s Plain and it is an adjustment.
The long bus rides, the crampedness we find ourselves in and just the constant noise.
My goodness is it a lot of noise.
Coloured people don’t know how to be quiet, and it is definitely where I got my loudness from (it comes out when I’m with friends or when it wants to but for the rest of the time it’s mute).
Anyway, I really have come to learn that I love the stillness of silence.
No one is in your space making conversation out of a sense of obligation to talk to you, no one is speaking to you when you’re busy typing your novel or watching series. No one is asking you things you don’t want to answer, no one is playing music on top of you when you just want to listen to nothing.
Just silence and quietness.
I had gotten home from work one day when I came in and I was just naturally quiet. I didn’t feel the need to speak.
My grandparents with varying degrees of Alzheimer’s disease kept asking me if I was okay because I was quiet and I just nodded. My aunt then asked if I was fine because I was so silent, and eventually my mom had to speak up and say that sometimes I just don’t have anything to say.
It took her while to understand that initially, but I’m thankful that she has learned.
A lot can be understood when you’re watching what is going around you, and not feeling like you have to say anything.
There isn’t a drive to fill the noise, to contribute for the sake of it, to speak up just because it is what you have to do. Silence can be a remedy when you least expect it.
One of my favourite times is when I’m with friends and we’re doing nothing and saying nothing, and just being.
It usually happens after we’ve caught up with each other and then we fall into that lull where we can sit still, enjoying each other’s company and saying things only when we feel we have to, not because we’re obligated to.
Sometimes I just turn to them and I notice something about them and our relationship, that sometimes I take for granted or haven’t really paid attention to, and usually that comes out of moments of quietness.
There is a power in silence, you just have to take the time to recognise it.