Silence

Writing advice encourages the writer to avoid the passive voice. As I chewed through this story, reducing my already too much passive voice was difficult. I was a passenger on a ride I did not want to be on.

Leaving a meeting, I was brought into another discussion I wasn’t directly involved with. I was aware of the situation and asked to be available as needed. The involved team was testing an effort that was not working. Every indicator pointed towards an inevitable failure. They had recently discovered information suggesting the disaster would bloom into something worse.

Two co-workers updated their boss. Within just a couple of minutes, the conversation devolved. “Off the rails,” “unhinged,” or “high-speed come-apart” all fall short of the big, hostile reaction. It was an unexpected reaction to what seemed like a no-brainer response of “let’s cancel the test.”

I sat quietly while the other two got the full force of the experience. I am often quiet but rarely without words. Some came to mind, and I sent them away. Every bit of me tried to disappear. The conversation flew past hostile and ripped through inappropriate. It escalated until the “boss” was tuckered out, and we were dismissed. We all quietly left. I don’t recall the other three of us even acknowledging each other. We just faded away.

As the shock wore off, I grew annoyed with myself. I don’t know if I could have changed the outcome. I convinced myself I didn’t have the right words. “What if I say the wrong thing?” I might regret what I say. Ultimately, I said nothing.

Sometimes, my silence is harder to take back than my words. It would have been better to try (even unsuccessfully) than remain a spectator. Action may not do what I hope, but inaction won’t do anything. At some point, not correcting it becomes condoning it.

Where am I passively spectating? What action can I take right now? Is more at risk with my silence than my action?

Be curious, be kind, be whole, do good things.