Book: Quiet by Susan Cain

Silence! When we're young and boisterous, teachers and parents demand it; then comes a time we demand it of ourselves. Consciously or not, we often seek it, crave it. Susan Cain extols the virtues of Quiet in her book about introverts. Silence can be a nourishing protective veil, but it can also be leaden, secretive, and roaring loud. It might be a conscious vow, a protest, or inflicted upon us. It might be something to be broken, or a pact between two. It can denote psychic struggle, or be an expression of a person's constitutional right. Pregnant silences can promise untold joy or cringeworthy awkwardness. Silence can be between 2 or 2,000 people, a respectful pause of reflection of something or someone we miss. It can be about honour of religious or cultural mores, or perhaps an adventure in a world class city. In it's scariest form, a literal or proverbial silence can be deadly.

In Scottish philosopher Thomas Carlyle's Sartor Resartus he writes,

"Speech too is great, but not the greatest. As the Swiss Inscription says--Sprechen ist silbern, Schweigen ist golden[1] (Speech is silver, Silence is golden); or as I might rather express it: Speech is of Time, Silence is of Eternity."--Book III, Ch. III.

Radio silence in days of peace or war can be rather useful, either to hide from the enemy, or today, in merely ignoring annoying emails and text messages. William the Silent (William I, Prince of Orange (24 April 1533-10 July 1584), wasn't so much a quiet guy but rather a cunning and courageous leader in the founding of the Netherlands. Martin Luther King said in his 1967 speech "Beyond Vietnam -- A Time to Break Silence"--

"A time comes when silence is betrayal."

Although most of us would not survive the quietest place on earth, and many argue that too much silence will make you crazy, just try to see how much you can achieve; turn your mobile off, don't worry about the broken mute button on your remote, and dream of far off places.

[1] Possibly in reference to King Solomon (d.874). Heinrich Beyer, Die beiden Tanten: Posse in einem Aufzug (The Two Aunts: A Farce in One Act)(1816?)