For most of my life, I’ve tried to fill every empty moment with something, whether it be music, daydreams, or video games. But on particularly desperate days, my only company would be the sound of my own thoughts pinging around my skull like a manic pinball machine. Now, as years tick by, I’ve noticed a disturbing trend. My once carefree silences become less about relaxation and more about an endless parade of trivial ideas fighting for dominance in my already overcrowded brain.
My skull always hosts a mental circus, where every act demands the spotlight simultaneously. It leaves me overwhelmed, restless, and often exhausted. So lately, I’ve had to ask myself deceptively simple question: How do I use silence constructively and not allow myself to drown in a deep pool of half-baked thoughts?
There’s much to be said for quiet reflection. It can help us grow as human beings. Delving deep into the caverns of our minds can lead us to emerge with pearls of wisdom. Unfortunately, mostly I find myself spelunking through the mental muck only to return empty-handed. When my brain finally hits capacity, I’m left with no choice but to decompress. I usually accomplish this by writing something halfway coherent.
Of course, often I end up rambling to the nearest available ear, human or otherwise. I’m not picky. My cats and dogs have received earfuls, too. But I get quite frustrated when spilling my thoughts into the ether, only to find that once they escape my lips, they’re gone for good. The grand, profound idea I had is now as elusive as the plot of that popcorn movie I fell asleep to last night.
This brings me to the so-called “constructive” use of silence. Honestly, most of my attempts at productivity during quiet moments are nothing more than half-hearted scribbles on a notepad. Worse, they often serve as the mental equivalent of doomscrolling through social media feeds. Yet, I keep telling myself that this time will be different, that I could unlock some new level of self-awareness or emotional intelligence. But rarely do I feel any more enlightened by my meditations and ruminations.
I keep thinking back to those long, soul-crushing stretches during my mid-twenties and early thirties, waiting for job leads to get back to me. Yeah, 95 percent of them ghosted me like bad Tinder dates, 4 percent dangled offers that were laughably weak, and the remaining 1 percent gave me just enough to survive. During those times, silence wasn’t a choice; it was forced upon me by the sheer monotony of waiting on the world to change. Did I use this downtime to grow, to learn, to develop some deep insight, though? No, I mostly just sat there, stewing in a cocktail of anxiety and self-pity.
Well, perhaps that’s the point. Silence, whether we like it or not, has a way of revealing our true selves: the good, the bad, and the utterly ridiculous. It forces us to confront the cacophony of thoughts we usually drown out with noise and distractions. Sometimes, silence even gives us a chance to do something productive, like jotting down a few coherent ideas before they evaporate into the void. Plus, if all else fails, at least silence doesn’t keep you up at night with its incessant chatter.
Maybe one day, I’ll master the art of constructive silence. Or I’ll just keep talking to the wall on sleepless nights. Either way, I suppose it’s all part of the ongoing journey of overthinking everything.
~ Amelia Desertsong
