The Epidemic of Silence

Is there anything that’s not difficult right now? The continuing pandemic has affected everything, both for worse and, in some ways, better. One of the ways in which its crept into my life recently, is in regards to the different approaches individuals have towards exercising covid caution and safety. I had to muster up the courage to talk to a friend, about how her lack of concern for the seriousness of the virus is making me intensely uncomfortable, since it puts my family in direct risk. Although I am a bold person, I am not confrontational at all. Until now, advocating for myself in a clear and honest manner was unfamiliar. It was a skill set I did not have, a result of learning that whenever I’d speak up, there’d be unpleasant consequences and reactions. When we are punished for having a voice, that voice gets quieter and quieter, often closing up shop completely. I used to be among the masses who would just complain and vent behind the person’s back, since that felt safer than risking uncomfortable honesty about the issue at hand. There was no danger in using others as a sounding board, but then obviously nothing would ever get resolved, and resentments would grow like weeds. I don’t do that anymore, since I feel we cannot complain if we aren’t going to confront an issue head on. This doesn’t mean yelling and acting unskillfully; rather, almost anything can be dealt with when it’s handled honestly and rationally. And if you’re like me, you find these types of conversations supremely awkward. I will often look for any excuse to avoid the learned discomfort of a prickly topic. It can require real “get over myself” bravery to just jump in and do it. It becomes a choice I have to make; stay silent and totally betray myself, or move through the discomfort of speaking up. It’s sad how many of us shrink away from the latter, since that’s residual conditioning in being punished for being vocal. Finally exercising our right to honor ourselves with our voice is a great act of healing. Step by step, we unload what weighs us down by saying what needs to be said. I have found that the discomfort of honesty is way better than the self loathing I feel in the self betrayal of silence. Yes, it’s hard to speak up, but as author Glennon Doyle says, “we can do hard things”. In my zen practice as well, we are taught to be mindful of our preferences. As in, us liking or disliking something isn’t as important as doing what needs to be done (again, skillfully).

In this particular example, a friend’s less concerned attitude towards the seriousness of an 8 month long global pandemic, was literally becoming a direct threat to my family. This is not about different approaches to parenting; we all know what’s at stake here. The unknown nature of this highly contagious virus is scary. I have done everything in my power to keep my family safe and healthy, as well as be a team player within my community and school system. It’s infuriating how so many people don’t seem to give a shit. It’s selfish and unfair, as well as ignorant to ignore what all doctors are saying. To think that we know better than the medical community is ridiculous. As little as they know, we know a heck of a lot less. This is never going away unless we each do our part. Clearly one of the collective lessons here, is that we must learn to better care for each other on a deep level. This virus has revealed so much, including hard parts to people we feel close to. It’s very telling how individuals respond to extreme situations. Look at how many divorces there have been during this time. You can’t hide anything anymore, which I think is a good thing. It’s time to stop hiding, to stop silencing ourselves, and to stop ignoring our needs. If the world is cracking open and being torn asunder, let’s rip away all the patterning and instincts that don’t serve us. This includes not properly, and clearly, using our voices. With this particular conversation, I went into it with zero hope for a different outcome. That’s the key. My aim wasn’t to change the other person’s behavior, since I knew that was unrealistic. We can really only manage our own behavior and responses. My goal was to speak up for the health and safety of myself (I’m double compromised due to ulcerative colitis and the biologic drug I take for it) and all members of my household, which include older housekeepers. The lousy part about this, was that I was the one who felt like the bad guy. This is partially due to aforementioned conditioning, when it was seen as “bad” if I were to be vocal, but also because when dealing with someone who thinks covid isn’t serious, you’re automatically seen as crazy and over reactive. I know many people who are stricter than I am, but I’m absolutely adhering to basic, necessary precautions. I have been extremely careful this whole time. It sucked feeling like the Covid police, but again, not speaking my truth would have been worse, especially about health. I’d have felt cowardly.

I’m sharing this because I believe it’s just time to include honesty in our healing process. I want to move through this world with truth, in how I treat both myself and others. I want to teach my kids that silencing yourself so as to avoid community awkwardness is not the solution. It leads to many people being filled with anger and resentment, until they either ultimately boil over, or corrode from the inside. Silence is overrated. Yes, we have to choose our battles, and I do. But this one is a big deal, and what kind of mother am I if I’m not willing to feel awkward in order to keep my kids safe? Anger is an uncomfortable emotion. In our society, we are taught to suppress and ignore uncomfortable feelings. Sad? Pop a pill. Anxious? Scroll through your phone to distract. Angry? Stay quiet so as not to rock the boat. Drink, smoke, do anything rather than admit to being mad. Anger, like all feelings, when observed rationally, can be an excellent teacher that something needs addressing. Anger allows us to set necessary boundaries when we aren’t being treated right. It has changed history for the better, when brave leaders used it to create change with regards to injustice. It also can start a war. It’s never the emotion, it’s what we decide to do with it. In this case, my anger, however difficult, helped me practice advocating for myself. The conversation itself went just fine, and truthfully, what is a friendship that can’t withstand differences of opinion? Friendship is very important, but so is being a friend to ourselves.

I know it’s not easy, but speaking up always boils down to a choice. Drown your own voice, or deal with feeling uncomfortable. I have found there’s almost nothing worse than choosing to dishonor ourselves by burying our deepest needs.

Wishing you all strength as you’re faced with tough choices. It’s a lot less scary than you were taught to believe. And remember, you can do hard things.