A Mini Vow of Silence

A Mini Vow Of Silence

John Paul Derryberry

I practice many valuable skills in moderation, but talking is not one of them. A storyteller is always looking for a group to speak with. Add in the fact that this storyteller has also worked in social work for over two decades. It's a recipe for my gums always to be moving. I mean, "social" is in the job title. So, my first battle with laryngitis in my life put me in quite a bind. I had to stop talking for 5 days to make it my agency's big fundraising night, a Thursday dress rehearsal, and the big show on Saturday because I'm the host and have to talk.

The last time I went five days without talking was when I didn't know how to talk. Yet I sat in meetings at work, had dinner with friends, and played with my kids, not using a single word. It reminded me of how communicative humans are without uttering a single word and how we tell stories with our eyes, breath, reactions, and body language. It was a refresher on how we can't be good storytellers when our actions, words, and reactions do not match. Eventually, people will see through all of it. That reveal may happen immediately, take years, or happen after you are gone, but your story eventually falls apart.

Five days of not talking also allows you to realize the type of people you have surrounded yourself with. I'm not a terrible listener, but every storyteller could improve their listening skills. I had to listen, not respond, but comprehend and enjoy the people around me. Tuning into my girl's laughter brought me great joy, and hearing my wife's advice when they struggled was such a reminder that I married so well. Watching a bunch of friends discuss the complexities of serious situations showed me the depths of their care for other people.

Silence and listening can add so much to life; I usually experience this on my long runs, but for a short period, I also experienced it during my everyday interactions. I've always wondered how people can take a vow of silence and find meaningful connections in life. Yet, it was there in so many ways. Some are subtle, and others are loud, much like my stories. At the same time, I got my voice back in time for the big event. It's gone again; I'm returning to a vow of silence after several big meetings this week. This time, I'm not dreading it; this storyteller appreciates listening more and talking less. It makes the words I hear more powerful, and when I return to talking, it makes me understand the importance of word selection. I'll tell my stories, but I'll always enjoy the sound of silence a lot more!