Conditioned Silence

I contemplate the conditioning of silence, considering the alternative ways in which I communicate.

Silence is a shield. Protecting all of us from words that damage.

Silence is a weapon. Used specifically to hurt.

Silence is peace when it’s just way too much noise.

Silence is a way to communicate with God. But only if you are listening too.

Sometimes silence is deafening and it breaks you open.

We choose Silence as a means of violence to protect hearts, feelings, integrity, and the muthafuckas who don’t deserve protection.

Weezy suggests that real Gs move in Silence. Like Lasagna. Moving in Silence often requires Grace. Which remains a personal possession given sparingly.

Absent of noise. Chaotic in thought.

Conditioned for silence.

In silence there lies solace, a place to retreat.

Closed off space to cower, lick wounds and disguise pain.

Choosing silence as the last resort. As there is no alternative.

It works.

No one is listening anyway. The refusal to listen bares down hard, bullying into quiet. Silence means it’s over. Done. The final statement made. The point, fine. Albeit belabored.

Done in silence, dismissive of accolades to get things, well, done. More to the point. Without fanfare in silence, alone, without distraction to focus. Because, your life is serious. You are your responsibility. Silence is required to be intentional about your purposeful moves.

You suffer consequences in stealth. Strategically removing stresses because they kill.

Silently.

A plaque build-up preventing a free flow of life. Clogging veins that force irythmic beats that eventually stop the heart.

The deafening silence makes it hard to breathe at times.

Focus on the breath for sound.

It soothes. Gentle breaths coax pathways to appear.

Opens you up to breaking the Silence.

Unbound like Aslan at the stone table.

Crrraaacccckkkk… boom!

Reborn.

With silence cloaked in discernment there is much to say.