A couple of weeks ago, I was having lunch with a friend when she gave me a compliment that has stuck with me ever since. As we were settling into our booth at a local brunch spot, she turned to me and said, “One thing about you: you never make lulls in conversation feel awkward.” Instinctively, I laughed, thanked her, and immediately redirected the conversation to ask which breakfast item she was planning on ordering.
Later, once I had some time to myself, I started reflecting on how this skill hasn’t always rung true for me. In fact, becoming comfortable with silence is a skill that I’ve made a conscious effort to improve and eventually master. In a world tainted by constant stimulation from technology and social media, learning to be comfortable without external stimuli has allowed me to be more present and intentional with everything I do.Â
This change did not happen overnight, though. Getting to this point has required me to implement smaller changes throughout my life that dictate how I go about conversations and alone time. I owe my ability to welcome silence and all the thoughts that may encompass it to incorporating these changes into my lifestyle.Â
For the longest time, lulls in conversation made me painfully uncomfortable. I’d constantly try to put an end to my suffering by blurting out the first thing that came to mind. More often than not, this would end up causing me even more discomfort since what I had said contained zero substance and was nearly impossible to base a conversation on. I knew something had to change.
I decided to switch my mindset from viewing lulls in conversations as painful dead ends to simply an end in that specific topic. I forced myself to let a topic of conversation die when it was supposed to and allowed a new topic of interest to come up naturally. If I can’t think of anything to say, I don’t frantically search my mind for possible conversation starters. Instead, I let my mind tell me when to speak up, not vice versa. I’ve found that doing so turns these awkward pauses into a signal of redirection, making it less uncomfortable for myself and the other person involved.Â
My morning routine was another area of my life flooded with noise and constant stimulation. I would always have music playing and my phone open on TikTok while brushing my teeth, getting dressed, and doing my makeup. Not only did this signal a dopamine overload in my brain first thing in the morning, but it would also lead to me taking longer to get ready since I kept getting distracted.Â
Now, I can happily say that my mornings are quiet and serene. Instead of instantly reaching for my phone the moment I wake up, I make a conscious effort to get out of bed first and complete the basic steps of my routine in silence. This gives me ample time to collect my thoughts and make a mental list of what I would like to get done that day.
To be completely honest, in terms of welcoming silence into my life, this was one of the hardest adjustments I’ve had to make. As products of an environment that is constantly moving and changing, we’re wired to want to know every little thing that is happening around us. To combat this, during this time of silence and reflection, I remind myself that the conversations being had on social media are not going anywhere, and I can return to them at any time.Â
Bedtime is the only time of day that forces us to be alone with our thoughts in complete silence. Like many others, I have found ways in the past to make this time a little less quiet, such as playing a TV show in the background while falling asleep. However, this only did more harm than good since the constant stimulation made me feel like I could never fall into true deep sleep.Â
Similar to the technique I used for welcoming lulls in conversation, I decided to switch how I viewed the process of falling asleep. Instead of viewing it as boring and dreadful, I began to picture it as a time when I could reward my body with sleep after a long day. This eliminates the need for external stimuli since I am telling my body that it deserves this time of silence, peacefulness, and relaxation.Â
Although it required a lot of discipline and some getting used to it, getting comfortable with silence has improved my life. It’s true that to get comfortable, you have to get uncomfortable first. By gently pushing myself to step out of my comfort zone and welcome silence into my life, I now find beauty in the mundane and live life with more purpose and intention.