Listening to the Silence

Every year of my life (except for my 25th birthday) my grandfather Wilbur Green has called and sang the entire happy birthday song to me. We’ve always lived in different parts of the country and it’s the most consistent way we stay in touch. Throughout my life I’ve always felt that we haven’t spent enough time together, or that I haven’t learned enough from him, but our annual conversations we have always resonate.

This year, after singing in his 1950’s-style pastoral timbre, he began sharing a story regarding his health, and the most recent concern of his. To make a long story short, he was experiencing unusual fatigue and lack of breath, and was worried about the state of his heart. His doctors thought that a pacemaker may be a solution, but this was not an avenue he wanted to go down.

He pursued another opinion. He described the new doctor as someone whom he immediately trusted and felt a strong connection with, and the doctor gave him some very honest feedback.

“You need to stop worrying about your heart. You need to relax.”

The observations made by this doctor lead him to believe that my grandfather’s discomfort was primarily self-induced. Wilbur took this to heart (no pun intended) and within a day felt a very sweet relief of his full stature.

My grandfather was incredibly happy. He shared this story with me, and tied it together with a moral — there are things beyond our realm of control, and we must find peace within the things we have control over, but more importantly, the things beyond our scope of influence. In order to reflect on this, he suggested “listening to the silence.”

~

I recently moved to a new city. This is the second major move I’ve done on my own, with the stakes being substantially higher now that I’m a “fully-fledged adult.” Moving induces a full spectrum of fears and anxieties, and the fear of the unknown often fogs my field of vision. I moved without the safety of a job, and have exposed myself to equal parts opportunity and danger. In the 66 days of being in this new territory, I’ve experienced anxiety and fear in entirely new ways.

However, like my grandfather’s journey of simplifying a sizable and complex issue down to the simplicity of our human nature of being concerned, I too have taken to listening to the silence; allowing the space between moments to give me clarity and to appreciate the lessons learned from circumstances that are outside of my control. Him and I discussed how this realization of reflection is a process that one must go through many times throughout our lives. As I near the age of 27 and he closes in on 90, we’ve connected over an important epiphany. Among the racket of life, the quiet has much to tell us. Sometimes, we must listen to the silence.

Audio Block

Double-click here to upload or link to a .mp3. Learn more