The Concept: We fill the air with noise. "Filler words" account for 20% of our speech. We talk to avoid awkwardness. We talk to dominate. We talk to prove we exist. Monks take Vows of Silence to find inner peace. I am taking a Vow of Silence to see if I can order a coffee without speaking.
The Rule: For 24 hours (8 AM to 8 AM), not a single word can leave my lips. No whispering. No humming. No grunting.
> THE PREPARATION
I placed tape over my mouth for the first hour to remind myself. I carried a small notepad and a Sharpie.
This was my "Get out of Jail Free" card.
> MORNING: THE COFFEE SHOP DISASTER (09:00 AM)
I walked into Starbucks. I usually say "Grande Cold Brew, Black."
Today, I stood at the register and typed on my phone.
Me: (Thumbs up)
Barista: "Good... what can I get you?"
Me: (Shows phone screen with text "GRANDE COLD BREW")
Barista: (Loudly, slowly) "OH. YOU. WANT. A. COLD. BREW?"
Observation: She assumed I was deaf. She started enunciating excessively and using hand gestures. I felt incredible guilt for "faking" a disability, even though I just wasn't speaking.
> AFTERNOON: THE SOCIAL LUNCH (12:30 PM)
I met my friend Mark for lunch. I warned him via text beforehand.
Usually, Mark and I compete for airtime. We interrupt each other constantly.
Today, I just sat there. And listened.
Mark talked for 45 minutes straight. He told me about his job, his girlfriend, his childhood fears.
At the end, he said: "Man, you are such a good listener. I feel like we really connected today."
Irony: I didn't say a word. People don't want conversation; they want an audience.
> THE INTERNAL NOISE METER
Strange thing: Using the notepad was annoying, so I stopped trying to communicate "small thoughts."
If I wanted to say "That car is cool," I just... didn't. I let the thought die.
This caused a backlog of internal monologue. My brain got louder.
> EVENING: THE UBBER RIDE (06:00 PM)
I took an Uber home. The driver was chatty.
| Driver Says | My "Response" | Awkwardness Level |
|---|---|---|
| "Crazy weather, huh?" | (Nods Enthusiastically) | Low |
| "So what do you do for work?" | (Shrugs and smiles) | Medium |
| "You don't talk much, do you?" | (Stares out window) | High |
| "Are you mad at me?" | (Vigorous head shaking 'NO') | CRITICAL |
I ended up writing "LOST VOICE" on my phone and showing him. He immediately apologized. Again, the lie felt easier than the truth.
> NIGHT: THE FRUSTRATION (09:00 PM)
I stubbed my toe on the bedframe.
The urge to scream "F***!" was primal. It rushed up my throat.
I clamped my mouth shut. The sound stayed inside. It felt like swallowing a grenade. The pain actually seemed to last longer without the vocal release.
theory: Swearing is a painkiller. Silence amplifies suffering.
> CONCLUSION
Words Saved: Approx 15,000 (average human daily count). Value Lost: 0%.
I realized that 90% of what I say is useless filler. "Like," "Totally," "Crazy," "I know, right?" These are noises we make to signal compliance.
Silence is a power move. When you stay silent, people project their own thoughts onto you. They think you are wise, or angry, or deep. In reality, you are just thinking about sandwiches.
Verdict: Try it for an hour. The world doesn't need your commentary as much as you think.