Last year in 2021 I visited Jasper, AB. A lovely destination with many areas to explore as far as for hiking, mountain biking, and anything else outdoors-related. I strapped my bicycle to a rack attached to my car’s trunk and drove to reach my destination. The first full day in Jasper I decided to ride a moderate trail with my bicycle. I thought, hey, it should not be overly difficult since moderate means, well, moderate. Not easy and not overly difficult. 

I hit the trail in the early morning with a ‘moderate’ amount of water, snacks, my camera, and a map. Little did I know the trail was going to be ferociously difficult. I don’t think I’ve ever been on a trail as arduous. I believe I was off my bike at least fifty percent of the time due to the amount of roots, rocks, hills, and tree limbs. I am by no means an avid biker, and I was not prepared for the situation. 

Looking back, I very much enjoyed the experience. At the time, though, I felt frustrated and apprehensive. I did not bring enough water and had to conserve frugally. I didn’t meet many people on the trail until I was near the end point. Between the beginning and the end, I took a lot of rest. On one occasion, I sat down against a tree a meter or so off the trail. As I sat against the tree and took in my surroundings, drinking my water, something occurred to me. 

I heard nothing. Absolute silence. Deafening in a paradoxical way. 

Eerie at first, since silence is not something I normally experience. Even alone in my house I hear the furnace going or something outside. The silence in the woods became magical. Soothing. Tranquility at its finest. I did not want to leave my spot, partly because of how exhausted I was and did not care to continue on for the challenge ahead. Another part of me didn’t want to leave the silence. I was trudging through the woods the entire time, and yes, had stopped for breaks prior. But something struck me with that rest period. I was finally able to take in my surroundings for whatever reason. During the rest of the trek I was able to stop and observe silence here and there.

Silence in therapy can be just as rewarding for both the therapist and client. At first, silence in the therapy session seems unnatural, whether the conversation takes place virtually or in person. We are not accustomed to silence when speaking with people. Silence often feels uncomfortable, especially with people we’ve just met. Silence in therapy offers an opportunity to take in what one feels, sensations being experienced, and reflect on what has been said. 

Silence, albeit uncomfortable, communicates to a client I am present and am ready to proceed when they are as well. I don’t have to interrupt the silence and move on with the session. This happens frequently in daily conversations. In silence we discover healing. During therapy, silence says much as whispers from past memories surge up, dots (patterns) are connected, themes are recognized, and processing feelings is done to the fullest extent. We need not be afraid of silence. Welcome the absence of sound with vulnerability. 

The Jasper biking experience was worth it in the end. I enjoyed the adventure. I do hope those in therapy and in their everyday environment are able to find the benefits of silence. I wish you the very best in doing so for your well-being.

A bit about the author

Eric is a Canadian Certified Counsellor (CCC) with over 9 years of experience in the counselling field who specializes in Addictions, Anxiety, Depression, PTSD, and Relationships.

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