Reflections on silence, or, Communication Frustrated

Partially induced by a roommate’s blog post (found here), a recent conversation with a dear friend, and a sore throat causing pain such that talking has been rendered an utterly undesirable activity, I have wondered what it is that causes us to so deeply crave communication. Even the most introverted child will create an imaginary friend to talk to, and even the most condescending philosopher will find some method of communicating their lofty ideas (in spite of the fact that they expect no one to understand their extraordinary wisdom). Interacting with other people – communication in word or action – is innate. It doesn’t have to be a conversation; it can be the glance (or cold indifference) of a stranger you walk by, an understanding nod of a friend across the room, or someone checking their blackberry while you’re trying to talk to them. In fact, we communicate every moment of our lives whether we like it or not.

I know you all will be shocked that I bring C.S. Lewis into this. “We read to know that we are not alone,” and the same could be said of most conversation and blogging. His statement that “People don’t write the books I want, so I have to write them myself” hung upon my impressionable young mind in grade school to the point that I became a prolific storywriter.

But why?

For one thing, our desire to communicate is evidence of our being made in God’s image. God communicates the world into existence and converses quite openly with His creation. As His creatures, we long to hear His voice whether we acknowledge Him or not. Since we are also meant to live in community, communication is a matter of survival. We cannot read the mind of another, and God gave us the ability to interact and indeed connect with one another in a variety of ways.

But, as in all things on this earth, we’ve managed to screw it up. The good gift of communication can be used to lie, manipulate, and injure. Incomplete communication can lead to assumptions that drive people apart – all because of a specter that didn’t exist in the first place. Or, we refuse to acknowledge that communication is a gift and attempt to use it as little as possible simply for fear of its abuse. By this we deny others the opportunity to minister to us in ways we never would expect.

There is also the vice of speaking for its own sake – and how I see this in myself! Just in an afternoon of not talking, I have found myself frustrated by my inability to get my usual two cents in. What cause for introspection this is. When did I start thinking that my two cents were worth anything in the first place? Does my communication have as its goal edification or self-glorification? Too often I cloak my own insecurities in a humorous word or fight loneliness by trying to make myself the center of attention. Not that there’s something wrong with telling a joke, but put in the larger context of how I act sometimes – from my tone to my body language – there can be some pretty serious implications.

Lewis was right. We read, write, talk, and live in such a way to know that we are not alone. We communicate to see if our stories are like others’. We talk through things because sometimes the more we keep things in, the less sense things make. We hug long-lost friends because we’re glad to be near them and want them to unmistakably know our sentiment. However, it is easy to forget that the flip side of that is using our God-given abilities to communicate in a way that builds others up, instead of fortifying our own I-centered kingdoms.

In an eternal sense, I guess a few days with the vocal chords out of commission to remind myself of these truths may not be such a bad thing.

And in a temporal sense, I’m sure my roommates and coworkers won’t mind, either.