What happens when someone decides that the conversation is over? There are no new perspectives to consider, no possibilities for influence. Their world view is complete without you, thank you.
If one of the parties still has things to say, or feels unheard, this can be painful. It becomes the kind of
malady that goes untreated, and shows up in confusing places.
The overbearing father who brooked no back talk was a well worn stereotype in sitcoms a generation ago. Although I have never enlisted in the military, it sounds like higher ups are afforded the luxury of squelching all responses from subordinates. No questions asked. Literally.
A century ago the notion of children being unworthy of a voice was common.
But
does this dynamic work for marriage? Family? Community? The roots of the word conversation are "keeping company with". "Intimacy". "Familiarity."
These are qualities that are not always furthered by silence. There is, of course, the quiet that arrives when compassion and genuine understanding rise to the top, like thick cream. When I held my granddaughter last week, there were no words necessary. She had my undivided attention. Sentences are but one means
for roping that in.
There was a story in a marriage book I read long ago about two couples. One never fought, while the other often raised their voices. The author said he was more concerned about the first scenario, because in his experience it can indicate that one person has given up hope of ever being heard. The noisier marriage meant that they were engaged in working things out. In his practice it was often the muted spouse that slipped out the back door. No
arguments. No explanations. Just gone.
It's work to keep my ears open, my heart curious. But the alternative seems bleak indeed.
Certainly God has heard me; He has attended to the voice of my prayer.
-Psalm 66