By Moriah Shiddat

Sitting here with my laptop, the draft from the window hitting the back of my neck as my favorite pop-culture induced guilty pleasure “Glee” plays on the t.v. in the background, I am trying desperately hard to muster into words the many emotions that have flooded my mind in the last few weeks. I will not attempt to be overly profound nor will I pretend that I am truly comfortable with serving others heaping plate of my inner most thoughts, yet as I search for the words to express how I feel, I can only recall that in the last few weeks I have come to discover that finding the right words at times is like…its like searching for your car keys: you have a generally understanding of where they are, you’ve used them times before, but they always end up missing at the most inconvenient times.

As an introvert, I have struggled a great portion of my life not with expressing myself, but rather the internal struggle that I have with over-thinking and analyzing the right words to say at times. But I wonder why can’t contentment be found in silence?  Life does not always grant you all the answers: nor does it promise for you to understand them all, so why do we often feel that the solution to the empty space of uncertainty and expressing how we feel is to fill the gaps with words. It is something that I grapple with, and artist and filmmakers alike have toyed with the idea, that power is a device and powerful tool of expression, but in a highly extroverted society where we are constantly inundated with visual and auditory forms of communication, and where everyone or everything must have an opinion, it seems that’s there is no longer a place for a loss of words. Nevertheless, in the last few weeks, I have learned that often so many struggle with finding the right words, and in my recent encounters I have also learned that I must learn to not only tolerate this unsightly flaw in myself but also in others. Silence can be understood and be just as profound and as human as any other form of expression.