Asking for Silence

“You actually got all of us to be quiet!”

The night sky twinkled above and embers warmed the front of our bodies. Why the fuck was I here on another camping trip with these guys. My husband’s childhood friends, the guys I’ve gone to music festivals with for half a decade, are always shouting at each other over the campfire. All I want is to lie in my tent, blissed out beneath the universe and these guys won’t shut up about politics. There’s no talking them out of it.

Finally though, with my feet in the sand I drew up some earth mama power and spoke. The only woman in the group, the only healer, the only one who seems to have any kind of connection to our Source in this moment.

”Hey you guys?…Can we all just be quiet for a moment.”
They grumbled and then fell into the black silence by the lake.

For a couple minutes, these men stared into the flames and for the first time I felt them together. They’ve been on this life journey since before puberty and they’ve been shouting at each other ever since. I think they’d forgotten what it feels like to just sit quietly beside an old friend and feel the warmth. No need to speak. Adulting had filled their minds with worry and deep sorrow that bubbles out in triggered talking getting them nowhere.

For the first time, I sat with them in silence and felt a deep companionship. My soul sighed and whispered to only me, “Ah…here we are.” And then someone spoke. “I gotta give it you, Cha. You actually got all of us to be quiet for once!” My heart swelled. I felt like the shaman, the medicine woman, the human with the power to unite the others. It only lasted a moment before their arguments resumed and the campsite was once again jagged with the energy of unconscious trauma.

For a moment there though, for a moment, I had managed to cut through the shit and create a container of peace. In that moment, I experienced the power of my voice to interject, to speak up and ask for what I want, to ask for what we all need. It is not words that heal the wounds but holding our attention in deep silence long enough for the words in our minds to entirely disappear.