Not a Whisper

_45647104_arcticlandscape_466Silence. That’s what there is now. Not the pretentious silence of poetry, claiming the poet’s silence before a string of babbling. That is not what is around me. What is around me is – silence.

Silence because no one will come near me.  Because colleagues know that I know that performing the charade of an interview, before their appointing of a job that doesn’t exist (whilst bypassing eligible candidates) was unfair. The trade union are on my side. Because they know that I am angry, and that this anger is justified. They don’t dare to face me.

Silence, because I can’t be bothered anymore. I am not doing anything at work beyond what I must. Silence because I am working to rule. Because there is no point in asking me to do anything extra for you. Silence because all of my duties may be performed online. Because I need not speak to anyone.

Silence, because I am too exhausted not to be. Because the controlling the flood of anger and sadness and despair and suicidality; the begging for help; the trying to be calm with those who have done nothing wrong, has broken  me. Because no matter how long I sleep, the legarthy is no less. I am as glass. Shattered glass.

Silence because I have nothing to offer to God anymore. My words are choked by tears;  the emotion has been spilled. Silence because God says nothing in return.

Silence, because God is silent.

This entry was posted in mental health, morality, plans, work and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Not a Whisper

  1. davidinchippy says:

    I think God IS silent. I think God is silence. The silence of God is so profound that it’s deafening. Maybe the problem is that we expect God to be just like us: always speaking. I suspect that the silence of God is beyond words.

    And as a fellow contemplative, I know that you understand.

    For weeks now, my own silence has been so full of my own ‘while noise’ that I don’t hear the silence of God. Maybe the most important prayer is to ask for stillness; to seek the Stillpoint. For it is only from there that true activity, that true speaking, begins.



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