An awkward silence

It was an innocent question, a simple question, asking about the welfare of a mutual friend. However… the friend in question had died 12 years ago. The person to whom the question had been asked didn’t say anything for a really long time. At least to me it seemed like a really long time. He was likely taking some moments to consider the kindest way to phrase the answer – one that would minimize the embarrassment of the questioner. I found myself wanting to jump in with a quicker answer, but am thankful that I refrained – because it wasn’t my question to answer, but also because it provided an important lesson for me.

In hindsight, I remember standing there thinking, “Why doesn’t he say something?” Even later I marveled at his deliberation and then it occurred to me that this man often does that… often takes some moments to collect his thoughts before giving an answer. Whoa. Think before you speak. What a novel idea.

Then it dawned on me that I had witnessed an illustration of two kinds of conversational response. My internal reaction was immediate, almost impatient, feeling that somebody needed to get the answer out there a.s.a.p. On the other hand, the response that was eventually given seemed to emerge instead from a philosophy that valued taking the time to give a measured response. Duh. “Slow to listen, slow to speak…” Yah, I’ve heard that somewhere before. And no, I’ve never been very good at it. Could it be that I am uncomfortable with silence in some social settings? Do I feel compelled to fill it in before it can become too awkward?

In this case I think I would have given a fine answer. I am sensitive enough to have been kind and gracious, but I would have tried to do it quickly. This was just an ordinary conversation between old friends – so maybe it didn’t really matter – but in a more volatile situation the speed of the answer might have made a big difference.

So, let this be a lesson to me. How many times have I wished that I had stopped to think before speaking? What will it take to help me change? Maybe one step would be to recognize that a moment of silence is not a terrible thing and that it is not always my job to fill it with words. Maybe I could learn that. Just maybe.