Silent Night, After Night

This weekend, I had an unexpected opportunity to go to Cincinnati for Over the Rhine’s annual Christmas concert. I’d been recovering from a cold, but thought I was getting back on track. After several hours of conversation over road noise and rain, my throat gave up the ghost. Ummm, my voice. So, for the past 2 and a half days, I haven’t been able to talk. Well, I can talk, but no one can hear what I’m saying. And I have to tell you, my miming and trying to express deep truths with my eyes doesn’t work so well.

It reminds me of when I was in Poland, and we didn’t have enough translators for our team, so I spent most of the trip unable to communicate with any of the wonderful people we were meeting. Of course, there, I also couldn’t understand anything being said, so it was a double whammy. But I realize how much I depend on my ability to small talk, extend friendliness through that tenuous bridge of “making conversation,” and in that way, control my environment by making sure the people around me are happy, amused, and feeling interesting. Surprisingly, I feel so powerless without my voice.

At the concert, I could only clap—I couldn’t holler with the rest of the delighted fans. When my phone rings, I have to let the call go to voicemail, because if I pick it up, the caller won’t be able to understand me. I can’t even talk to my pets! Though they understand my miming much better than people do!

It’s amazing how many things I want to just casually say—they aren’t important, they’re just observations, or pointing out the scenery—and I can’t share those things. Those little thoughts tossed out are part of what makes up time spent with a specific person, their point of view, their sense of humor, their stories. I am reminded of religious orders who take a vow of silence. I never thought of how much of a sacrifice of self that would be. But it is taking away one of the major ways that one person comes to know another and experience their presence. In that way, a vow of silence is truly a “putting to death of the self,” and focusing on the only One who can perfectly understand us no matter what our limitations are.

Anyway, I know that I couldn’t keep a vow of silence. I’ve strained my poor vocal chords to the limit trying to scratch out enough sound that, along with my miming, can get some thoughts across to people around me. Even when I’ve said over and over again, “I can’t speak,” I keep trying to talk. I’m addicted to talking, I have to admit. So here, at least in written form, I can keep up some form of communication. Thanks for listening!