Let’s say you and a friend go out to lunch together. You’ve known each other for some time and you really enjoy each other’s company.
So while your friend is eating salad and you are working on your roast beef sandwich and French fries, you fill each other in on the latest events in your lives–work, children, romance, health.
The conversation has been flowing smoothly and without interruption. Then, the inevitable happens: At the same time, you both momentarily run out of things to say.
How do you feel about this and what do you do next?
Well, maybe a a panicked expression comes across your face. You’ll look across the table expectantly, hoping your friend will say something soon. Anything! You may wonder if this lapse makes you boring or if your friendship is not as solid as you once thought it to be. To fill the hole, maybe you jump in to say something that doesn’t make much sense.
Or, if you’re like me, you gladly take the opportunity to stuff another fry in your mouth and not have to worry about talking with your mouth full–savoring the potato-y goodness, enjoying in the atmosphere, soaking in the vibe.
I don’t mind moments of silence. Constant sound becomes white noise that is easy to relegate to the background, easy to ignore. But add in the pauses and then you have rhythm. Rhythm creates interest.
You don’t always have to say something.
In the crevices of sound, thoughts are born, love begins, worlds are created.
© Sweepy Jean and Sweepy Jean Explores the (Webby) World, 2011