Silence has a strange gravity. It can be sacred or suffocating, a space for reflection or a tomb for the soul. When people hurt, many go quiet—not out of wisdom, but out of a fear they can’t articulate. As a therapist, I’ve come to recognize that silence often speaks volumes. It is grief’s first language. But silence is also a paradox. What protects us early on can imprison us later. Healing, both psychologically and spiritually, begins when we can tell the difference between