Tag Archives: Silence

73. Silence And The Softening Of My Rough Edges

This has been a rather humbling week, and necessarily so! It’s been my experience that when I’m made aware of corrections I need to implement in my life, I’m only given grace to continue in those behaviors for so long before there’s a reckoning. This was one of those weeks and two of my recurring lessons of late have been the softening of my rough edges and the awareness of my need for more silence.

My tears stream freely as it’s not an easy post to write. That’s generally the case when I’ve been given a clear glimpse of myself from the outside perspective. It’s rarely pretty, but quite necessary I’m finding, if I want to learn to truly set myself aside, so love has an opportunity to work through me.

I’ve been having an ongoing conversation with a close friend about the words we speak, the opinions we hold, and that more often than not, much more can be accomplished in our silence than in espousing our self-perceived wisdom. There are so many times I feel there are important things that must be fully articulated for the benefit of another. Though my heart is genuinely wanting to help others, much of that can come from a place of ego, which often hinders more than it assists. There’s a very fine line between something we are being led to say, and something we want or feel driven to say. That’s the lesson I’m learning now, and that discernment doesn’t come easy for a lover of words.

I’m learning that more often what is needed is a willing ear to listen, and my silence in response. Humility is a virtue and being a friend involves far more listening than speaking. My input or advice should not be given unless is specifically asked for, and even then, my words should be succinct. So often others pour out their souls because they are in pain and are seeking comfort. Listening, offering a hug, holding a hand, and letting others know we are there for them, are some of the greatest gifts we can offer. Unsolicited advice can shut down, further depress, and feel like judgment to those in the depths of their dark night of the soul. That is the last thing in the world I want to inflict upon another.

Each new lesson I learn is like a surgical knife, cutting away a few more of my rough edges, and prayerfully smoothing over very sharp perimeter that can unknowingly irritate, and in some cases, greatly wound others. I’m watching myself be shaped and molded into a better version of myself, and I’m thankful, both for my own benefit, and that of those I encounter.

Love & Light,
Laura Lum Corby