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In the swirling midst of a blazing meltdown, her inifinite wisdom emanated through her words: “To even talk about [the] details is just exposing my system to more toxicity.” And that was the basis for us not meeting to talk it out.

Whoa. I had to take a moment of silence and just sit with that bombshell.

How often do we desperately text, call or otherwise reach out to others when we’re in the midst of one of life’s shit storms? How often do we assume that talking about it will make us feel better? How often do we talk, talk, incessantly talk, instead of intentionally planting (just) ourselves amidst uncertainty, allowing the energies already in motion to do whatever they’re going to do (which is usually some flavor of transformation)?

Yeah, I know. You don’t sit in silence or solitude because it can suck – BIG TIME – especially when you’re practicing new ways of being. The first efforts are always awkward and feel so wrong (and maybe lonely), but that’s only because the behavior is unfamiliar. Sitting in silence and being in solitude are disciplines. Strict disciplines. They feel unnatural, so in the moment’s anguish we stay safe and do what we’ve always done: talk, talk, tickety-talk. But you know what? That will only ever get you what you already have.

What if talking is a colossal distraction from quickly moving through to the learning or opportunity presenting itself? You know, like a transformative tunnel of fire you know you must traverse to get to the goldmine at the other end; the information, gift, insight, wisdom, whatever.

What if talking about the details is just exposing our systems to more toxicity?

If so, it is our responsibility to do something different: to sit in silence, be in solitude, or even be in the presence of others and NOT talk about the details of our current tumult. It seems to me that adopting silence is a method of evolution because it upends unexamined habits and places them right in the forefront of our awareness so we can choose differently for a new outcome. The depth of circumstantial discomfort can be a catalyst for personal advancement and up-spiral-ment. (Ta-da… I just made up a new word to make the point.)

It’s human, habitual and easy to want the comfort of others when we’re in the midst of a storm. Too easy. That’s what makes me think that there may be something to learn by holding our power within and NOT talking about it.