People experience silence in many different ways.
For some, silence is a punishment or an isolation. It’s an indication that we’ve done something wrong or transgressed some boundary. We’re left alone without connection, without a voice.
For others, it’s a danger or at least an unpleasantness. If we’re quiet, we’re more likely to notice our emotions—and sometimes that’s too much to bear.
If silence is a negative, it’s not surprise that we’d try to fill it: with conversation or music, with games or with gossip.
To others, though, silence offers a respite. It’s a refuge from clatter and sensory overload. It’s space for a Sabbath, the rest between notes that makes meaning of the melody.



