Not long ago, I used to fill every pause with words. If there was a silence in a conversation, I rushed to break it. If I was alone, I turned on music, podcasts, or scrolled endlessly, afraid of being left with my own thoughts. Silence felt empty, even threatening.

But one evening, sitting on a bench by the river, I allowed myself to just… be. No phone, no background noise. At first, my mind screamed with unfinished tasks and random worries. Yet after a while, the noise inside me softened. I heard the water flowing, the wind moving through the trees, my own breathing. I realized silence is not emptiness—it’s a space where truth quietly appears.

Since then, I’ve started to invite silence into my days. A few minutes of sitting quietly in the morning before opening my laptop. Walking without headphones. Even in conversations, I’ve stopped fearing pauses. Sometimes silence says more than a thousand explanations. It gives room for honesty, for presence, for understanding that doesn’t always need words.

Silence has become my teacher. It reminds me that I don’t have to constantly perform, explain, or entertain. I can simply exist. And in those moments, I feel the most myself.

Maybe we all need a little more silence—not as isolation, but as a gentle space to truly listen: to the world, to others, and to ourselves.