I want to tell you one story…This story is about silence…

May 9, 2019

I want to tell you a story…

This story is about silence.
I’m not allowed to say where it happened, in which country, or during which training — because of the format of the training itself...

We were taken to an unfamiliar city.
We left behind our passports, money, phones, watches — absolutely everything — at the hotel.
All I had with me was a raincoat.
I was in a foreign country, in a city I didn’t know. My sense of orientation — 0.

The only instruction: to remain in silence and to be allowed to say only one phrase —
“May I join you?”

The rules were simple:
We had to approach people and ask, “May I join you?” Nothing more.
If they said yes, we would stay with them for as long as we felt like being there.
If they said no, we would move on to someone else and ask the same question.

If anyone asked us anything, we were not allowed to reply — not a single word.
Just silence and a smile.

It was a serious step out of my comfort zone.
You can imagine how many awkward thoughts start flooding your mind in moments like that:
“Oh God, what will they think of me for asking this?”
“If I don’t answer their questions and just smile, they’ll think I’m stupid!”
“I probably look ridiculous from afar.”
“This is so embarrassing!”
And so on — endless thoughts!

After a few interesting encounters and little adventures, I approached one man.
I asked him:

— “May I join you?”
— “Sure, of course.”
— I stay silent. I smile.

We’re standing there. I say nothing.

— “Where are you from?”
— I stay silent. I smile.
— “You don’t talk?”
— I stay silent. I smile.
— “Do you speak English?”
— I stay silent. I smile.
— “German? Italian?”
— I stay silent. I smile.
— “Spanish?”
— I stay silent. I smile.
— “Wow! Am I being filmed by some hidden camera or something?”

He starts looking around, checking if there are cameras anywhere.

— I stay silent. I’m barely holding back my laughter.
— “Ah, I think I know what’s going on!”
— I stay silent. I look at him curiously.
— “You know, every night I pray to God to send me my soulmate. I think He heard me and sent you! Yes, I’m sure of it!”
— I stay silent. Inside, I’m laughing so hard — what a funny situation to find myself in!
— “Let’s take a walk.”
— I stay silent. I smile.

We start walking. He keeps talking — about his life, about this city, about his work — about everything.

I just stay silent and smile whenever I feel like it.

And something wonderful happens.
I begin to feel.
You don’t need to talk.
You don’t need to be anyone.
You just are — here, now, in this moment — and you enjoy reality.
It’s so beautiful. So interesting...

Then we came across some street musicians.
I liked their melody.
I sat down on the ground and listened to the music.
He sat down too.
He kept talking; I remained silent and smiled from time to time.
Then I stood up and continued walking. Still no words. He followed.

— “You know, I’ve never spoken so openly with anyone before.”
— I stay silent. I smile.
— “And you know what? I’ve never had such an interesting conversation either. Talking to you is fascinating.”
— I stay silent. I laugh quietly. (I think to myself — “Conversation?” Hmmm, I haven’t said a single word. How interesting...)

He’s wearing a watch. I keep glancing at it to check the time.

At 5:00, our bus was leaving to return to the hotel.
If I didn’t find my way back in time, it would leave without me.
And then I would have to figure out how to get back — with no passport, no wallet, no phone...

— “Are you in a hurry?”
— I stay silent. I smile.
— “You know, I have to go back to work soon, my second shift starts. Let’s meet here again at 9 p.m., on this square.”
— I stay silent. I give him a sad smile.

Soon we were near the meeting point. It was 5 o’clock.
Participants were already gathering and getting on the bus.
I had to get on too.

A wave of sadness came over me — he was such a kind, warm person, and I wasn’t even allowed to say goodbye.
Only a smile and silence.
I felt sad thinking how he might perceive it — that I just left without a word, without explaining anything about myself...
And that if he really came back to the square at 9, I would already be far away, in another city, back at my hotel...

Our trainer had warned us this wouldn’t be an easy exercise.
We were to notice what was happening inside us during the silence — especially in those moments when we desperately wanted to speak.
To pay close attention to the discomfort, the awkwardness that would arise.
And I did. I observed.

Then came the time to say goodbye...
I stopped, smiled, and with my eyes, I thanked him deeply — for this experience, for the sense of connection I had never felt before in such silence.

— “Wait, you’re leaving? Where’s everyone going? What kind of group is this? What’s happening? Aren’t you coming back?”
— I stay silent. I smile sadly, with eyes full of gratitude.

I wanted so badly to explain — to tell him what was happening, why I wasn’t speaking, why I was silent...

I got on the bus — still silent.
I watched his confused face, but I wasn’t allowed to say a word.
I can’t even describe how hard that felt.

I just smiled and sent him gratitude with my eyes.
I tried to use my hands to gesture that I was wishing him all the best from my heart — that I wished for God to hear his prayer and truly send him his other half one day.

Then the bus started moving.
So many feelings were swirling inside me — sadness, because I imagined how confused he must be. He had no idea I was doing a silence exercise.
With my whole heart, I was sending him gratitude and blessings...

At the same time, I was amazed — how much I discovered, how much I learned, how much I felt...
I discovered silence.
How extraordinary it is.

For the first time in my life, I had a dialogue with someone without saying a single word — and I realized that words weren’t needed at all.
I was simply silent, smiling, listening — and the dialogue happened naturally.
And it was more complete than any conversation I had ever had with words.

For the first time in my life, I felt a truly deep connection with another human being.
For the first time, I really listened to a person.

He didn’t know my name, where I was from, who I was, or what I did —
and yet, that didn’t stop a meaningful connection from happening.

There’s such freedom in silence.
You can simply be quiet — and that’s enough.

After this experience, I often think about how limiting our “identities” can be.
They set standards for us — how we should be, how we should speak, what’s appropriate, what’s not…

But there, I was simply being.
I was who I was — and I needed nothing more.
Everything was already perfect as it was.
I didn’t even need to speak.
Not a single word.

Even silence was enough.

What an incredible ability it is — to be silent.
To simply be.
To simply listen.
To simply notice.
To simply exist.
Nothing more is required of you.
The very fact that you are — that’s already enough.

This silence often slips away from me in everyday life.
But that feeling, that experience was so deep that I always long to return to it.

Maybe one day, I will…

✨🙏🏻✨