And so it happened that I could not speak.
Not in the metaphorical sense but in the real 'I've lost my voice" sense. Some upper respiratory infection no doubt. For at least a week I went about the business of working and living in almost complete silence or at best with a soft barely audible whisper in response to the events and the conversations of my life.
An interesting time, that week. I watched the expectations of the people in my life drop as less and less of a response was expected of me. And I became content to listen with no attempt to formulate my own thoughts into words which would not be spoken. It's a fascinating thing. I heard so much more when I knew I could would not reply. And the people in my life seemed to say so much more. Perhaps the knowledge that I would not reply freed them from anticipating a supportive or a negative or even a neutral response.
And now I am able to speak again.
With the return of that amazing gift of speech, I am aware of silence as a choice and that with the ability to speak comes the need to sometimes choose silence.
I's said that "silence is golden". In your case, it certainly was. You knew you couldn't speak, so you weren't formulating a response to someone's words and was paying full attention to what they were saying.
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