When we were kids, wild and freckly and free, my brother and I used to make fun of our mother for sending herself to “time-out” all the time. Being devious little red-heads who made our fun in the backyard, climbing out second-story windows with home-made taekwondo belt ladders, pranking the house-keeper on a daily basis to certain insanity, and shooting passing cars in the neighborhood with wooden arrows, it’s no wonder our mom needed to give herself a break all the time. She home-schooled us, so she had her hands full 24/7. But being so young, we agonized over watching the kitchen timer blink down from just five minutes, and couldn’t understand what the appeal of dooming yourself to “time-out” was. Especially if you are the adult and you actually have the choice of whether you want it or not. Why would you want to do nothing but sit in utterly still and stagnant silence?

As I’ve grown older, I still find that sitting in silence with nothing but your own thoughts swirling about your head can be terrifying. I love to be active. I love to do things. To explore places that seemingly haven’t been touched in years, to talk to terrifyingly unusual people for hours on end just to understand them, to say “yes” to nearly every situation that mostly doesn’t require my life. I do these things often with no reason but for the adrenaline and reckless excitement.

Oftentimes, this constant activity takes place not out of fun, but out of stress or anxiety. Anyone in school understands this. Anyone working multiple jobs. Anyone raising kids (especially ginger kids). The entire 21st century knows that to be a workaholic is the average American pace. We jump from one activity to the next, sometimes because we have no choice and sometimes, I think, because we’ve become so used to that pace that we’ve forgotten the true beauty and importance of taking a pause. Sometimes it is so easy to get caught up in doing that one forgets how to simply be.

Silence is a time of listening. When you force yourself to hear and sort through the clutter in your own brain, you are forced to be honest with yourself. You are forced to know yourself for who you are, and for who you were, and for who you want to be. You are forced to think about the things you don’t want to think about. You are forced to remember the wonderful things you forgot about. You are forced to face your demons and you are forced to face your gods.

And all the while, outside of yourself, there are so many voices in the world. So many cries and so much shouting and there’s screaming and wailing and that’s all clawing for your attention. So many distractions. So much chaos. So much confusion, all waiting for you to return.

But in the honesty you find within yourself in silence, you will be able to move more powerfully than you ever could in physical action. You will be able to set your focus and your sights upon what truly lies at the center of your heart. Whether this be a refocus on a tough relationship, or a seeking after God, or a break from the stress of homework, I truly believe that silence is the starting point to finding truth, strength, and connection with yourself.

I encourage you to, every now and then, take the time to do absolutely nothing. Doom yourself to silence, even if you still have to set five minutes on the microwave timer. I promise you that in being inwardly honest with yourself, you will become outwardly genuine and a source of strength for others. You will learn a great deal about yourself and about the world you didn’t know, and some things you’ll wish you didn’t know. But most importantly, silence will allow you the uncomfortableness of being honest about your purpose in life, and where you are in relation to it.