Befriending the Quiet: A Practice in Knowing Your Own Worth

I think that the quiet is underrated.

To be fully transparent, I’m a highly sensitive introvert who loves long drives home without any music, so I’m a natural friend to the quiet. But while I find comfort in solitude and solo driving, too much quiet and stillness can still feel jarring.

And I don’t think I’m alone in that experience. After all, this world we live in is full of stifling noise. Text messages, podcasts, to do lists, obligations, Netflix shows, expectations, news, work, social media… Our finite beings are being bombarded with an infinite amount of information that we cannot take in or sustain. So when we find ourselves finally experiencing some quiet, it can feel foreign. Maybe even intimidating.

This is what I invite you to explore today, friend: this middling space of uncertainty and insecurity that the quiet forces us to face.

I believe part of why the quiet can be daunting is because it’s not very impressive. Doing nothing doesn’t feel showstopping. Slowing down doesn’t seem remarkable. In fact, the quiet can feel like it’s holding us back and getting in the way of our pursuit of this “best life” that we’re told we need to live. Driving home in silence means I lose an opportunity get some interesting talking points from a podcast. Going for a solitary walk doesn’t make for the catchiest Instagram content. Taking the time to listen during a conversation instead of jumping in with an opinion right away might mean missing the chance speak your mind. All in all, this quiet can make us feel mediocre.

Because in the quiet, we can no longer justify our Being by being impressive through our actions.

Instead, the quiet forces us to face the reality of ourselves – who we are, as we are in this moment. Our thoughts, our hopes, our fears, our insecurities. Us. You. Me. At our core.

But what if that’s the point? What if the purpose of the quiet is to facilitate this shift in focus from what we do to who we are? Because who we are is not something to be measured, tracked, and evaluated. Who you are and how you have been created to be and move in this world is not a mistake in need of correction.

Let me repeat that: who you are is not a mistake. Being imperfect does not condemn you to a life of striving. You do not need to make up for your flaws by doing more and more and more so that you can somehow become more worthy of the stillness your soul craves.

You are already worthy.

But the noise around us fuels this lie we believe: that we need to and can make up for our imperfections. That we must push aside our weariness for the sake of our worthiness. After all, how could this flawed, limited self be enough without the actions and accolades to make up for the messiness of being me?

But, friend, what if there was another way? What if this uncomfortable, unproductive, uncompromising quiet is how we begin to see and experience truth?

Perhaps you’ve felt a tug towards the quiet before. You’ve felt it in your drooping shoulders, your pounding headache, your apathetic numbness. I’d invite you to listen to your body and spirit and to find your version quiet. What the quiet looks like for me will be different from what it looks like for you; we have different personalities and realities in our day-to-day lives. But what we share is a deep need to hold space for who and how we are today.

Who you are today is worthy of stillness. Worthy of space. Worthy of rest. You have been wonderfully and beautifully crafted into this specific version of you. And you are enough.

Breathe in, breathe out. Pause. Maybe drive in uncomfortable silence for a bit or walk around without your headphones. Whatever you choose and are able to do, I hope you begin to befriend this quiet space. I hope you come to know how worthy and enough and beautiful you are.