The Cost Of Silence
Light changes what we see.
The holidays invite us to rest, reflect… and speak up.
The holiday season has a way of slowing us down.
The light changes. Familiar music fills the background. We find comfort in familiar rituals. We pause to reflect on the year behind us and the one ahead.
Silence becomes part of the season.
Sometimes, silence is exactly what we need.
But not all silence restores.
The Two Kinds of Silence
There is a silence that restores us.
It creates space to breathe, reflect, and listen. It allows meaning to surface.
And then there is a silence that costs us.
This is the silence that hides gratitude we never express.
The silence that postpones hard conversations until “after the holidays.”
The silence that keeps ideas, concerns, and appreciation locked inside—unshared and unseen.
We often justify this silence by telling ourselves we’re “keeping the peace.”
But peace built on silence is fragile.
Silence as a Disruptor
We often think of disruption as loud, uncomfortable, or forceful. But sometimes, disruption happens quietly—when we choose not to stay silent anymore.
The irony of the season is this: silence is often present so something meaningful can be heard. Silence, at its best, creates room for truth to arrive. Silence, at its worst, prevents truth from ever being spoken.
In families, workplaces, and communities, silence frequently protects comfort over connection. It avoids awkwardness. It delays discomfort. But it also withholds some of the most meaningful gifts we could give.
Speaking Up as an Act of Giving
The holidays are about generosity. We wrap gifts, prepare meals, and show up for one another in visible ways.
But some of the most lasting gifts can’t be boxed.
A sincere thank-you is a gift.
An honest question is a gift.
Clear expectations are a gift.
Naming a concern early is a gift.
Acknowledging someone’s effort is a gift.
These moments don’t require volume or perfection. They require courage, intention, and respect.
A Season for Reflection and Voice
As the year comes to a close, consider this:
Honor the silence that restores you. Disrupt the silence that costs you.
Ask yourself:
What appreciation deserves to be spoken aloud?
What truth am I holding that could help someone else?
What question might open understanding?
What conversation would be an act of kindness, not disruption?
May this season bring rest where you need it and courage where it’s been missing.
May you give generously, not only with what you have, but with your voice.
Because sometimes, the most meaningful gift we can offer is simply choosing not to stay silent.