Just Shut the Fuck Up

(May 2015)

I am a person who likes to talk; a lot. Ask anybody who has been even just briefly acquainted with me and they will testify that, if I fall on one side of the talking–spectrum, it would definitely be on the “too much side” … very far to the right on the “too much side”.

However, a couple of years ago I had the strange realization that actually not talking can be a wonderful thing. This might sound strange to some, and believe me when I tell you that nobody was as startled about that realization as I was.

At the time I was on a one month trip through Southeast Asia. I was on that trip alone – all alone. I had decided to take this trip and take it by myself for multiple reasons. One of them was that I wanted to experience a new culture through my own eyes and my own eyes only. Because I wanted less of a ‘tourist experience’ I wanted to bring as little of my everyday life, my own culture, with me, which seemed easiest if I’d go on my own. I would have fewer distractions, I would not experience another person’s judgment on a situation except for my own. Of course, my own judgment would still be a distortion of ‘reality’ but at least it would be my distortion. I could learn about how I feel about certain cultures, certain experiences, without having to place them next to or justify them opposite somebody else’s experiences of that same moment.

So, anyhow, I had decided to go on this trip by myself, which was a true blessing. I, of course, met many people during my travels: some interesting, some boring as eff. Some I will never forget, some I couldn’t remember I’d met by the time I awoke the next day. However, despite all these people I met and the generally positive experiences I had with them, my most treasured moments, and the reason why I took this trip in the first place, were my moments alone. I was alone a lot and very consciously choosing to be.

I distinctly remember the day when I realized how being alone actually had a huge impact on how I was experiencing the world around me. And it wasn’t just that I wasn’t confronted with another person’s judgment of the world. It was so much more than that.

I was in Cambodia when I finally came to this realization. I had been “going going going” for about two weeks at this point and that night, when I was trying to tell a tuk tuk driver that I wanted to book him for the next day to take me to the temple of Angkor Wat before sunrise, I came to a strange realization. I was telling the man that I wanted to be at the temple before the sun rose, so could we please meet here on time? He was trying to tell me that it would be much too early and meeting before 5 AM would be ridiculous but I kept insisting and finally he agreed. I went back to my ‘hotel’ and giggled to myself “Larissa getting up before the sun rises voluntarily!? This must have been a first!” and then it struck me. I hadn’t really felt tired in days even though I always got up early in the morning, spent all day exploring, sometimes doing physically demanding activities, always in a tropical climate, and rarely going to bed early. This was absolutely extraordinary because, usually, I am tired always. I went to bed that night looking forward to the next morning, truly impressed with this newfound energy of mine.

The next morning, after my daily cold shower, the tuk tuk ride, explaining to the giggling park guides how I managed to “sweat through” my multiple-day-visitor’s-pass and having witnessed the sun rise over Angkor Wat, I walked around the temple, trying to take it all in. I went to more temples that day, riding around on my bicycle and wanting to scream at the top of my lungs every time I saw a mystical, impressive and truly mind-blowing structure somewhere. And then I realized where all that energy had come from. The energy I had been feeling for weeks now was an extended, more thinly spread out version of the energy I was feeling now, in this moment where I just wanted to yell into the universe how mind-blowingly amazing this place was. It was the energy that came from not letting everything spill out through words. For the past weeks I had been experiencing truly exceptional things. From beautiful cultural heritages to simply delicious food to inspiring conversations with strangers, whatever I was experiencing, I had nobody with whom I could share it. And while that was what most people were worried about before I left (“well don’t you want somebody to share those experiences with?” was the most voiced worry people had, even before “do you think that’s a safe thing to do?”), it was what made the entire trip all the more rewarding to me. Not being able to release all that excitement but instead containing it within me gave me an incredible energy-high.

You know that feeling when, for example, you hear a juicy piece of gossip or receive some really, really good news? That feeling can become extremely physical. Your fingers start to tingle, your stomach fills with butterflies and your adrenalin just kicks in, making you feel more awake immediately. Now imagine that feeling as your constant state of being! Isn’t that a wonderfully enticing idea? After I had realized the power that “not talking” gave to me I started to observe it more closely, and I was right. Every time I experienced something that truly excited me, not only did my heart swell up with genuine love for the world but also did my entire body profit from the experience; and from not releasing it through words. If I could keep all that energy within me simply by not speaking just imagine how this could change my life!?

Needless to say that, as soon as I got back to my everyday life, I got back to talking way too much. I talk about almost everything to almost everyone. It is my defense mechanism that I use when I feel insecure. I also truly enjoy talking because I like exchanging ideas, hearing other people’s perspectives and simply using words. I truly adore words (hence the literature major); they can do so much. But I also learned that they can prohibit so much. If I truly want to experience things, I need to learn how to shut up at times.

This is also how I write best. I write most passionately about the things about which I do not talk. Because then, when I sit down to put my thoughts to paper, not only have I thought them through so many times already that the text is basically all ready there inside my head, but also is there hardly any effort needed to bring it to paper; because all that energy has been stored up and is just waiting to be released. I therefore believe that shutting up is very conducive to creativity. Instead of constantly talking to everyone about the things I find inspiring, I will try to let them marinate and keep them to myself. That way, I can reap the energy it creates and maybe, just maybe, find a more efficient way to be creatively productive; all by simply shutting the heck up. What a refreshing idea.