When you stand high on a windblown peak, the air crashes like surf against a beach. The leaves shudder and rattle. The trees groan and creak. The grass hisses. Far away the highway hums with tires. Train whistles echo up from the valley.

But the mountain stands silent.

If it weren’t for the height and width and mass of the mountain, it would be easy to ignore its strength. But the visual is commanding and the solid feel of thousands of feet of bedrock beneath your feet communicate power without a word.

There are people like that.

They are just so there. Solid. Unshakeable. But they don’t make a lot of noise. I guess they don’t have to. But they change the world.

They listen powerfully.

It’s not the same as quiet. A chair is quiet. The floor is quiet. But when you sit on them it’s not the same as a mountain.

Sitting on a mountain gives you a whole new perspective on life. It’s a visceral experience. Thought provoking. Full of wonder. That doesn’t happen with chairs as a rule.

So it is when one of the silent ones listen to you. They do it actively. They look at you. They nod. They don’t need to comment.

They ask questions to draw you out. You find yourself saying far more than you expected. You sense that they get it. That they hear you.

And then a very strange thing happens. Very strange.

Worrisome thoughts that have been a distracting hum in your brain for weeks are turned into words and evaporate. It’s as if the act of organizing your thoughts into sentences makes your worries seem smaller, more manageable.

The looming monsters that haunted your nights are exposed for the exaggerations that they are. The noise in your head drains, leaving a quietness you haven’t felt in a while.

That’s what encouraging listeners do. And it’s magnificent! I know. I married one.

Suzie is a wonder for me to behold. Where I would jump in with suggestions and questions, she calmly listens. Where I would treat the conversation like a problem to be solved, she allows you to come to your own conclusions. She has confidence in you, doesn’t underestimate you.

Which makes you believe you can handle it.

It makes her the first person the kids go to with their problems. It makes her the first place I go, too.

But there’s another side to these quiet ones. More tomorrow . . .

Photo by Sandy Yancy