Oh, I feel this. Real conversations, real connection, being truly heard—that’s the only thing worth showing up for.
Yesterday, I had a meeting where the energy was all wrong—bullying, posturing, noise with no real listening. And you know what? I simply got up and walked out. No goodbyes, no pleasantries, no thank yous. They didn’t deserve my presence, my mind, or my words.
Because here’s the truth: We don’t owe our time to spaces that refuse to honor it.
Monica, yes, exactly! Real connection and true listening are rare, and when a space is filled with noise instead of understanding, walking away is the best thing we can do. You set a powerful boundary by choosing not to engage where you weren’t valued
I knew when I came upon your work you were special. Great article. I have been staying silent for a very long time now. I wholeheartedly agree with you. I’ve learned to listen more.
Beverly, that means so much...thank you. There’s a quiet power in choosing silence, in listening more deeply instead of constantly explaining. It’s not always easy, but sometimes it’s the most freeing thing we can do. I’m glad this resonated with you. ❤️
As I was drinking my cup of coffee, I read, reread and shared “I Have Nothing More to Say” to 2 special people in my life. In fact, the second time I read it, I read through tears. Thank you, thank YOU for opening the door to better understanding the silence.
Pat, that truly means a lot to me. Thank you for not only reading but for sharing it with others. The fact that it resonated so deeply even to the point of tears—means everything. Silence holds so much more than words sometimes, and I’m grateful this piece helped open that door. Sending you so much love. ❤️
I have often wondered about this. Your writing reflects so much of what I think, but never write down. I only talk to people who really listen, and I really listen back and then it is a gift. It happens rarely, but when it does I feel so light-hearted and content. Thank you for sharing this. 🧚♂️
That means so much...thank you for sharing this with me. True, reciprocal listening is such a rare and beautiful gift. When it happens, it feels like a deep exhale, like being truly seen. I’m so glad this resonated with you. 🧡
April, thank you...those words mean more than I can say. Feeling seen and heard in a world that often drowns out real connection is a gift. I truly appreciate you. ❤️
I feel this all the time, Salwa. Sometimes it's people that don't have the attention span to stay with me on a topic. Other times it's people that have their minds made up and nothing will change it.
The one that hits home the most is trying to share something vulnerable and getting a solution from another person's lens as the immediate next response. I even wrote an article about how that is not the best response even if well-intentioned.
It feels so close to home because I would do that all the time to other people, but now I catch myself because I too want real conversations, real connections, and a space to be heard.
Alex, I feel this so deeply. There’s such a difference between truly being heard and just being given a response. That automatic urge to fix or advise even when well-intentioned can make vulnerability feel dismissed instead of held. I love that you’ve written about this; it’s something so many of us experience but don’t always know how to articulate. Real conversations, real connection—that’s what we all crave. Thank you for sharing this. ❤️
Thank you for sharing this. It is beautifully written.
I was recently accused of doing this by someone who invited me to be friends via a SM platform. Naturally, I was cautious, not all online strangers are secure, easygoing people.
Nor can I say I am wholly guilty or wholly innocent, I respect and value their perspective, even though for me a trust has been broken. At the same time I am aware that there is a pattern of them having this experience with women from ethnic groups, women who historically have no voice and culturally are quite chatty as a result. But that is not it. Its a feature of more than a handful of humans. Some pay to be listened to, which suggests it not a bug otherwise we would not be aware of others doing it.
My sense is that as we have become more connected we have become more disconnected, seperated, isolated and lonely.
Those languid days of chewing grass with space for discourse that meanders along the dips and swirls of the river’s edge feels out of place in a world informed by commands, notifications, demands; agee to this deny that with a click of a butyon and no time for thought, pause or reflection. Our brains are coded differerntly now. In person contact in the absence of a digital device still carries the hallmarks of our primary needs.
I can remember days when it would take three weeks for a four page letter to arrive, and another few days to draft a reply. Life, mutual exchange, listening all happened at a similar pace, because there was always a sense that time was infinite. And then the 90’s came and everything between us started to change.
We stopped valuing the traditions of the silent generation.
Zita, this is such a deeply thoughtful reflection, and I appreciate you sharing it. You’re right while we’ve become more connected in the digital sense, we’ve also grown more disconnected from the slow, intentional ways we used to engage with each other. The days of long letters, unhurried conversations, and true listening feel like a distant memory in a world of instant responses and constant noise.
It’s heartbreaking when misunderstandings or broken trust arise, especially when shaped by broader patterns and histories. Your awareness of both perspectives—the personal and the societal—is profound. True listening takes time, space, and presence, something that feels increasingly rare in our fast-moving world.
Thank you for bringing such a rich perspective to this conversation. ❤️
Allison, this means more than I can put into words. Thank you for your kindness, for truly seeing me, and for reminding me that my voice matters. I have replied to your DM. Sending you so much love and gratitude. ❤️
Brava - I feel like this is a real sign of growth, or at least it has been for me. Learning to be silent first as a space to allow me to hear myself and let my body and soul share and take what it needs to. And then second, as you have shared because your words, your energy, your thoughts are precious and fare best when they fall on fertile, receptive ground.
Florence, this is such a beautiful reflection. Silence can be such a powerful teacher...first, in allowing us to hear ourselves, and second, in choosing where and with whom to share our energy. Learning to honour that space is definitely a sign of growth. Thank you for your thoughtful words, they truly resonate. ❤️ x
Thank you and you are welcome! Sometimes when commenting on someone’s post it’s hard to know whether you are seeing/hearing/understanding what they want to convey or projecting ourselves into the words. I’m so glad my own reflected truth back to you. Please continue to write and speak when you feel led to x
Listening is truly an art form, holding the space for someone else and remaining silent so you can 'hear' is the best gift you can give someone. Thank you Salwa I agree, letting silence speak is so powerful.
Tracey, absolutely....true listening is such a gift, and holding space without rushing to fill it is rare but so meaningful. Silence carries a power of its own, and sometimes, it speaks louder than words ever could. Thank you for sharing this. ❤️
Margo, thank you for this deeply thoughtful reflection. You’re so right....true listening starts from within. If we can’t sit with our own emotions, how can we truly hold space for someone else’s? It’s a practice, and one that so many of us struggle with. I really appreciate your insight. ❤️
Thank you for providing your unique perspective here, Salwa; and doing it beautifully. I am grateful. And touched. And gurl, that is not an easy thing to do. Sending love. 💗
Oh, I feel this. Real conversations, real connection, being truly heard—that’s the only thing worth showing up for.
Yesterday, I had a meeting where the energy was all wrong—bullying, posturing, noise with no real listening. And you know what? I simply got up and walked out. No goodbyes, no pleasantries, no thank yous. They didn’t deserve my presence, my mind, or my words.
Because here’s the truth: We don’t owe our time to spaces that refuse to honor it.
Monica, yes, exactly! Real connection and true listening are rare, and when a space is filled with noise instead of understanding, walking away is the best thing we can do. You set a powerful boundary by choosing not to engage where you weren’t valued
I knew when I came upon your work you were special. Great article. I have been staying silent for a very long time now. I wholeheartedly agree with you. I’ve learned to listen more.
Beverly, that means so much...thank you. There’s a quiet power in choosing silence, in listening more deeply instead of constantly explaining. It’s not always easy, but sometimes it’s the most freeing thing we can do. I’m glad this resonated with you. ❤️
As I was drinking my cup of coffee, I read, reread and shared “I Have Nothing More to Say” to 2 special people in my life. In fact, the second time I read it, I read through tears. Thank you, thank YOU for opening the door to better understanding the silence.
Pat, that truly means a lot to me. Thank you for not only reading but for sharing it with others. The fact that it resonated so deeply even to the point of tears—means everything. Silence holds so much more than words sometimes, and I’m grateful this piece helped open that door. Sending you so much love. ❤️
I have often wondered about this. Your writing reflects so much of what I think, but never write down. I only talk to people who really listen, and I really listen back and then it is a gift. It happens rarely, but when it does I feel so light-hearted and content. Thank you for sharing this. 🧚♂️
That means so much...thank you for sharing this with me. True, reciprocal listening is such a rare and beautiful gift. When it happens, it feels like a deep exhale, like being truly seen. I’m so glad this resonated with you. 🧡
Your words matter in this space... you are heard
April, thank you...those words mean more than I can say. Feeling seen and heard in a world that often drowns out real connection is a gift. I truly appreciate you. ❤️
I feel this all the time, Salwa. Sometimes it's people that don't have the attention span to stay with me on a topic. Other times it's people that have their minds made up and nothing will change it.
The one that hits home the most is trying to share something vulnerable and getting a solution from another person's lens as the immediate next response. I even wrote an article about how that is not the best response even if well-intentioned.
It feels so close to home because I would do that all the time to other people, but now I catch myself because I too want real conversations, real connections, and a space to be heard.
Alex, I feel this so deeply. There’s such a difference between truly being heard and just being given a response. That automatic urge to fix or advise even when well-intentioned can make vulnerability feel dismissed instead of held. I love that you’ve written about this; it’s something so many of us experience but don’t always know how to articulate. Real conversations, real connection—that’s what we all crave. Thank you for sharing this. ❤️
Thank you for sharing this. It is beautifully written.
I was recently accused of doing this by someone who invited me to be friends via a SM platform. Naturally, I was cautious, not all online strangers are secure, easygoing people.
Nor can I say I am wholly guilty or wholly innocent, I respect and value their perspective, even though for me a trust has been broken. At the same time I am aware that there is a pattern of them having this experience with women from ethnic groups, women who historically have no voice and culturally are quite chatty as a result. But that is not it. Its a feature of more than a handful of humans. Some pay to be listened to, which suggests it not a bug otherwise we would not be aware of others doing it.
My sense is that as we have become more connected we have become more disconnected, seperated, isolated and lonely.
Those languid days of chewing grass with space for discourse that meanders along the dips and swirls of the river’s edge feels out of place in a world informed by commands, notifications, demands; agee to this deny that with a click of a butyon and no time for thought, pause or reflection. Our brains are coded differerntly now. In person contact in the absence of a digital device still carries the hallmarks of our primary needs.
I can remember days when it would take three weeks for a four page letter to arrive, and another few days to draft a reply. Life, mutual exchange, listening all happened at a similar pace, because there was always a sense that time was infinite. And then the 90’s came and everything between us started to change.
We stopped valuing the traditions of the silent generation.
Zita, this is such a deeply thoughtful reflection, and I appreciate you sharing it. You’re right while we’ve become more connected in the digital sense, we’ve also grown more disconnected from the slow, intentional ways we used to engage with each other. The days of long letters, unhurried conversations, and true listening feel like a distant memory in a world of instant responses and constant noise.
It’s heartbreaking when misunderstandings or broken trust arise, especially when shaped by broader patterns and histories. Your awareness of both perspectives—the personal and the societal—is profound. True listening takes time, space, and presence, something that feels increasingly rare in our fast-moving world.
Thank you for bringing such a rich perspective to this conversation. ❤️
Note to self/ drink coffee before reading Salwa. I understand and feel this exactly, darling. I DMed you.
But you are seen.
You are heard.
You are valued.
You inspire hearts - including mine.
You are loved.
I’m listening.
Allison, this means more than I can put into words. Thank you for your kindness, for truly seeing me, and for reminding me that my voice matters. I have replied to your DM. Sending you so much love and gratitude. ❤️
Awww you are always one of my favorites. I’m reciprocating your love and gratitude - I’ve got you ❤️
You cannot believe how much this resonates with me. Thank you for expressing what I have been able to put into words for years now.
Sarah, that means so much...thank you. I’m truly glad these words found you and resonated in a way that feels meaningful. You’re not alone in this. ❤️
Brava - I feel like this is a real sign of growth, or at least it has been for me. Learning to be silent first as a space to allow me to hear myself and let my body and soul share and take what it needs to. And then second, as you have shared because your words, your energy, your thoughts are precious and fare best when they fall on fertile, receptive ground.
Thank you for sharing x
Florence, this is such a beautiful reflection. Silence can be such a powerful teacher...first, in allowing us to hear ourselves, and second, in choosing where and with whom to share our energy. Learning to honour that space is definitely a sign of growth. Thank you for your thoughtful words, they truly resonate. ❤️ x
Thank you and you are welcome! Sometimes when commenting on someone’s post it’s hard to know whether you are seeing/hearing/understanding what they want to convey or projecting ourselves into the words. I’m so glad my own reflected truth back to you. Please continue to write and speak when you feel led to x
❤️❤️
Listening is truly an art form, holding the space for someone else and remaining silent so you can 'hear' is the best gift you can give someone. Thank you Salwa I agree, letting silence speak is so powerful.
Tracey, absolutely....true listening is such a gift, and holding space without rushing to fill it is rare but so meaningful. Silence carries a power of its own, and sometimes, it speaks louder than words ever could. Thank you for sharing this. ❤️
one word Profound!!
Thank you Jessy
This is truly tragic. And tragically true.
I'm convinced that what we're most avoiding we avoid listening is our own emotions.
The sacred practice of listening requires us first to be able to listen to our own inner reactions, without having to push them away.
If we can't hold our own feelings, we'll never be able to hold those of the other, any other.
Thanks so much for this painfully evocative statement, Salwa.
Margo, thank you for this deeply thoughtful reflection. You’re so right....true listening starts from within. If we can’t sit with our own emotions, how can we truly hold space for someone else’s? It’s a practice, and one that so many of us struggle with. I really appreciate your insight. ❤️
Thanks Salwa.
I wonder if you've has more thoughts since writing this striking piece.
Thank you for providing your unique perspective here, Salwa; and doing it beautifully. I am grateful. And touched. And gurl, that is not an easy thing to do. Sending love. 💗
Sheri, that means so much—thank you! I’m truly grateful that my words resonated with you. Sending love right back to you. 💗
Great post and you are heard! 🫶
Thank you so much Albert. I appreciate you!
You're welcome and I appreciate you too!
Be Visible!
Salwa, I hear you. TY for your reflection with many many thoughts that I too have felt.
Thank you so much. It means a lot to know my words resonated with you. You’re not alone in those thoughts. ❤️