Sometimes silence is soothing.  After a long trip with endless crowds, jet noises, conveyor belts, agents, tight spaces–all busy tired necessary sounds that erode the serenity.  The simple delight of coming home with deep quiet and solitude is cherished.

However, there are times and stories that show the sword-like wound that silence can inflict.  What would it be like to endure the stony silence of parents not talking for years?!  What confusion, painful endurance, tiresome immature games that a youngster would learn.

“Don’t feel. Don’t talk.”  And certainly “don’t talk about feelings.”  Are the concrete rules of the wasteland of a dysfunctional family.  Sure, we hardly know what a “functional” family would be.  But those rules have been huge invisible elephants in our homes blocking the joy all and any relationships.

Here I speak my feelings.  Thank you for listening, for honoring who I am here and now.