February 5, 2025
Thoughts can arrive from any direction. The other day it came by meme, in a screenshot of a post about monks under a vow of silence, who make an exception for talking to their cats. It was delightful and cute.
But it also stirred up a thought I’ve had before. I don’t get what the big deal is about taking a vow of silence. Isn’t that easy? Isn’t it so much easier to be quiet? What is the sacrifice in giving up the constant, futile grind of trying to come up with things to say?
That’s an exaggeration, of course. I’ve said many times that I don’t have much to say—it’s about the only thing I seem to be able to talk about at any length. But if I were in a situation where I couldn’t say anything, where it were forbidden, that would become grating even to me. And if I think a little beyond myself, I’m sure I’m underestimating the effect of everyone around me also being silent all the time.
But that’s all beside the point. I’m not going to be joining a monastery anytime soon. It’s a continuation on my post about Condensation. I’ve convinced myself lately that one of the biggest problems I have is my inability to think of things to say. It is intensely frustrating, for example, to be with a group of people who talking about a topic you are interested in, and to want to join the conversation, but you are unable because you can’t think of anything to say.
Okay, this is an actual post now and not the draft I accidentally published early.
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