The peace that comes from a comfortable silence is almost euphoric. Found in the moments of quiet when all the pieces have fallen into place and the world around you offers no worries.

Uncomfortable silence makes us think, it makes us question reality and think deeper than we’ve ever dared to wonder.

Still, the silence that comes before the storm brings an essence of dread. The eeriness, the promise that nothing good is what comes next.

Of all the comfort and thought provoking that silence can bring, the most powerful part of silence is its ability to allow the destruction to come forth. Where there was once noise, is now a void, the angry thunder, the screaming lightning, the gusts of wind begging to be let in have stopped. Not because the front has passed but because the worst is yet to come. 

Silence is deadly. 

In the beginning, I fought and begged and pleaded for the attention and love I had to be reciprocated. Determination won, or so it seemed. As the years went on I quieted, yet held onto the hope and fought through the stillness that cut like the winter winds. The clouds would eventually lift and the sky would allow for the beams of light to reenter as if there was never a threat in sight. With every occurrence, the looming warnings would last longer, and the clearing would provide less warmth and sun than before. 

I learned that the quiet was not peace, but rather alerts not meant to be ignored. I would tread lightly, stay small, and walk softly so as to not cause an eruption. I became a version of myself I no longer knew. I was a victim to the fear of loss the silence promised. 

Years of learning how to protect my dwelling for the comfort I seeked evaporated as I found my own silence. My quiet was no longer the product of hope and docility, the murmurs of thunderous emotions evaporated and became that of defeat followed by an anger so great no squall could compare. I had given up, and had realized the storm, however destructive, was inescapable. 

It is all too easy to assume that those that are vocal are combative, those that speak up are resistant to change and that the ones that are skeptical and directly challenge the organization are defiant. It is our duty as leaders to be able to differentiate between those whose intention is to leave a path of ruin versus those whose investment in the success of the team fuels them to question the present conditions. 

The rumbles you hear are not to be ignored, they are not always voices of negativity and dissension, they are the pending ruin of your organization’s foundation.

Silence in and of itself is not cause for alarm, identifying the patterns, shifts, and atmosphere of the team is how we know whether to relax in the quiet of the shaded summer sun, or prepare for disaster. 

The Silence of Eutopia: Here there is a low hum of productivity, connection, and uniformity. Our teams are comfortable in their positions, the support of leadership, and have a cohesiveness among them that produces the effortless, safe environment we strive for. The noise that occurs, almost inaudibly, is that of peace and productivity. Building a team that remains steady relies on keeping the windows of communication open, equalizing pressure as it presents itself, and welcoming the spring storms, without fear, that will promote new growth and a season of prolificacy.

The Questionable Quiet: This is where our teams are bracing for impending doom. They walk amongst the debris left by previous storms. Rebuilding has not transpired, the foundation has not been strengthened but rather left to faith that it doesn’t crumble. This quiet feels heavy and untrusting. Our people have been quieted, they no longer feel safe to raise questions, report flaws, or speak out on ideas, thoughts and concerns. They have begun to barricade the entryways, but will find ways to communicate and warn each other. Typically these exchanges will occur secretly, off the radar of the leadership that is meant to protect them. When our people feel as if the shingles of their direct leadership are unstable and unsecure they will create a quiet that is torturous, yet tangible. 

Treat this silence as your severe storm watch. The conditions present promise to have the potential to destroy the community you have worked to build. This is not where leaders take shelter, this is where you grab your umbrella, confront the distant thunder, and ask your people to conquer the impending storm along your side. 

The Calm Before the Storm: When our team members, employees, and peers who once felt passion, love and promise go quiet, is the moment we’ve lost them. The calm may feel as if the pressure is neutralizing, as if the sounds of dissension are dissipating, but in truth this is simply the beginning of a growing indifference. It may appear that our team has settled back into a harmonious state, when in reality they have taken cover, not with you, but from you. Once shown that the leader does not offer the protection and safety, trust is lost and our team will quietly begin to protect themselves before the storm. 

The mutedness quickly turns volatile and the casualty of a lost team member is felt among all. 

Silence can be peaceful, it can be thought provoking, yet it can be a sign that the eye of the storm is directly upon us. Listen to the absence of noise that was once present, as when your birds stop chirping, the lightning will strike. 

As I emerged from the wreckage that the punishment of silence bestowed on me, I found strength in my voice and wisdom to move forward with. I will never again become smaller or quieter simply to be accepted for who I am not. 

Appreciate the noise your people make, as the deafening silence threatens the equilibrium of your atmosphere.