Latest news with #silence
Yahoo
6 days ago
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Jen Psaki Mocks Trump's Vanishing Act With Brutal 2-Word Blast From The Past
MSNBC's Jen Psaki said there's been an unusual lack of activity coming from President Donald Trump over the past few days. 'Do you hear that?' she asked on Tuesday. 'That is the rare and blissful sound of silence we rarely get that these days, because for the first time in his presidency, Donald Trump has not made a public appearance for three straight days.' Trump has been largely absent since a White House event with Elon Musk on Friday. Even his social media posts have been less frequent than usual. 'We're not sure why,' Psaki said. 'Maybe he's tired. Maybe he's feeling a little low energy.' That was a not-so-subtle callback to the 2016 presidential campaign, when Trump used 'low energy' against then-rival Jeb Bush. 'Who knows,' Psaki said. 'But for whatever reason, the president is taking his longest break from the public eye since retaking the White House.' That break could end Wednesday, as Trump does have at least one event on his agenda that will have press in attendance: a 'summer soiree' at the White House. In the meantime, Psaki looked at how Trump's promise to hire the 'best people' hasn't panned out well so far:
New York Times
28-05-2025
- General
- New York Times
Greenland Says Visit. But Step Lightly and Speak Softly.
Standing at sunset on the boardwalk that rims the jagged western edge of Nuuk, the Greenlandic capital, I felt simultaneously dwarfed and expanded. The glassy water of the fjord, the veins of granite that made the snow-capped mountains look like crinkle cookies, the clarity of the northern light: All these combined in their immensity to make me feel paltry, while their beauty sent my spirits soaring. But what struck me most was the profound silence that hung, weighty and dense, as if the universe had slipped a pair of noise-canceling headphones over my ears.
Telegraph
23-05-2025
- Telegraph
British public transport yobs could learn a thing or two from Japan
It's morning rush hour in Shibuya station. Trains pause at a tangle of platforms inside the central Tokyo hub – all punctual to the minute, impossibly clean and heaving with a steady flow of office workers. But Japanese trains are not just litter-free and on-time. Stepping (or squeezing) on board reveals another unique quality: despite the mass of humanity crammed into a confined space, carriages are calmly steeped in silence. The word 'silence' doesn't often feature in the same sentence as 'British public transport system'. This was spotlighted sharply in recent calls from the Liberal Democrats to introduce fines of up to £1,000 for 'headphone dodgers' playing loud music and videos on public transport. In contrast, Japan appears to belong to an alternative noise-free cosmos. Step on board even a peak rush-hour Japanese train or bus, and there are typically no loud conversations about last night's dinner. No shouted phone calls to colleagues. And definitely no casual audio overspill from iPhone music or YouTube videos. This is perhaps little surprise in Japan. The idea of silence – embracing it, savouring it, being comfortable in it – is deeply entwined into the essence of Japan's DNA. Conversations are a key example, with silences often playing as important a role as spoken words. The phrase kuki o yomu, or 'read the air', reflects this sensitivity – and the importance of responding to unspoken social cues. At the heart of this outlook is one word: wa – or harmony – a core value that underpins almost every element of life in Japan, reflecting a deeply-rooted consideration for the collective that surrounds us all and a respect for others as a whole, rather than the individual self. It's not just about silence: this sensitivity to the collective experiences of daily life is a key reason why Japan is so often lauded as safe and clean, punctual and calm. And public transport is no exception. Passengers typically queue neatly, patiently (and quietly) in a line on the platform; public eating or drinking on board a train or bus is a definite no-no (babies and young children aside) unless you're tucking into a bento on a long-haul shinkansen bullet train; littering is also taboo; and phones are typically set to 'manner mode' so they operate in silence. On the very rare occasions I spy someone on their phone on a train, it is clearly some kind of an emergency (or a senior boss who cannot be ignored) – typically their head is apologetically bowed, one hand over their mouth, as they quietly whisper, as far away from other passengers as possible. As a former Londoner raising two daughters in Japan – first in central Tokyo, now in Kyoto – embracing silence hasn't always come easily to me, even after close to 18 years. When the girls were tiny, we were often told off by grandmothers on trains – for the noise, for the snack crumbs on seats, for the shoes kicked onto the floor. And yes, I confess, animated conversations and bursts of laughter with girlfriends on trains still do, from time to time, raise eyebrows. Adjusting to being comfortable with silence has been something of a journey in Japan. Coming from the UK, my subconscious default instinct is to fill conversational gaps with a flurry of words – about the weather, the clothes someone is wearing, the tea I'm drinking – anything to avoid an uncomfortable hiatus. But tuning into what's not there – whether it's a pause in a conversation, the empty space on a painting, the pared back minimalism of a contemporary interior – and the sense of possibility that goes hand in hand with that, has perhaps been one of the biggest gifts of living in Japan. For my daughters, as they approach their teens, the unspoken rules are clearly embedded into their psyche, no doubt from their Japanese nursery and early school years as well as their father – to the extent that they are now quick to tell me off if my phone rings in the wrong place or if my volume is too high in public ('Read the air mama!' I was told by my 12-year-old just last week while chatting in a shop). Needless to say, as inbound visitor numbers to Japan continue to soar to record heights, the ongoing conversation about over-tourism is deeply tied to concerns over crowds of visitors disrupting this cultural harmony (as well as the silence on trains). The solution, according to many officials, is the creation of illustrated 'manners guides', which are often spotted across the country in stations and hotels – from 'how to bathe in an onsen' leaflets (tip: wash before getting in the water, definitely don't pull out the plug – and yes, keep your voice down), to colourful posters outlining the dos and don'ts of travelling on public transport. Tellingly, I often spot manner posters in train stations not only in English but also in Japanese, with illustrations urging everyone to comply with basic etiquette. When it comes to the UK, it's a little trickier to imagine an animated poster urging people to politely turn their music down on the Tube having quite the same effect as a £1,000 fine – but in the interest of collective harmony and even a momentary hint of Japan-inspired silence for everyone, it's perhaps worth a try.
Arab News
21-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Arab News
What We Are Reading Today: Pico Iyer's essay ‘The Joy of Quiet'
Pico Iyer's essay 'The Joy of Quiet' dissects modern life's paradox: the louder our world grows, the more we crave silence. The essay was first published in 2012 in The New York Times. With the precision of a cultural surgeon, Iyer — a travel writer famed for his meditative prose — exposes how digital noise erodes human connection, leaving us drowning in a sea of notifications yet thirsting for meaning. But this isn't a diatribe against technology; it's a forensic examination of our collective burnout. He maps a silent counterrevolution emerging in the unlikeliest corners: Silicon Valley CEOs fleeing to Himalayan monasteries, Amish-inspired 'digital sabbaths' trending among younger generations, executives paying to lock away their phones and nations like Bhutan trading gross domestic product for 'Gross National Happiness' as radical acts of cultural defiance. Iyer's genius lies in reframing silence as an insurgent act of self-preservation. A Kyoto temple's rock garden becomes a 'vacuum of stillness' where fractured minds heal; a tech mogul's secret retreats — funded by the same wealth that built addictive apps — mock his own industry's promises of liberation. The essay's sharpest insight? Our devices aren't just distractions but 'weapons of mass distraction,' systematically severing us from presence, empathy and the sacred monotony of undivided attention. Critics might argue Iyer romanticizes privilege (not everyone can jet to a Balinese silent retreat), yet his message transcends class: in an age of algorithmic overload, solitude becomes not a luxury but psychic armor. He anticipates today's 'attention economy' battleground, where mindfulness apps monetize the very serenity they promise to provide. His closing warning: 'We've gone from exalting timesaving devices to fleeing them,' feels prophetic in 2025, as AI chatbots colonize conversation and virtual reality headsets replace eye contact. Less self-flagellating than Orwell's colonial reckonings, 'The Joy of Quiet' offers no easy answers. Instead, it dares readers to ask: When every ping demands obedience, what revolution begins with a silenced phone? What if reclaiming our humanity starts not with consuming more but with the radical courage to disappear?
Forbes
11-05-2025
- Health
- Forbes
2 Types Of Silence That Deeply Damage Relationships, By A Psychologist
Silences aren't just ordinary lulls in conversation. They can be charged with deeper meaning, ... More sometimes saying more about a relationship than any argument or confession ever could. We often assume that the emotional temperature of a relationship can be measured by what's said out loud — be it in an intense argument or in the tenderness of an 'I love you.' These are the obvious moments, and the ones that most draw our attention. But in reality, the most telling moments between partners are often the quiet ones. Not just the comfortable, companionable silences but the ones that carry weight. The ones heavy with everything left unsaid. Silence can soothe or it can sever. In healthy relationships, silence is restful. But in distressed relationships, silence can become a defense, a withdrawal or worse, a quiet exit from the emotional connection. The danger lies in how easily we learn to live with it — we call it exhaustion, we say we're keeping the peace or convince ourselves that things are 'fine.' Meanwhile, the distance quietly grows. Here are two forms of silence that may be more revealing and more damaging than anything said out loud. Emotional withdrawal is a common response when someone no longer feels safe expressing themselves in a relationship. This kind of silence isn't about peace or reflection — it often signals self-protection. One may stop sharing thoughts or feelings when past attempts have led to criticism, conflict or dismissal. Over time, they learn that staying silent feels safer than risking a negative response. They might seem calm on the surface, but internally they're managing discomfort and emotional distance. This pattern is closely linked to hypervigilance, which is a heightened state of sensitivity to perceived threats. In a 2014 study published in the Journal of Anxiety Disorders, participants exposed to mild social stress showed increased pupil dilation and more visual scanning when looking at neutral images — physiological signs of alertness. Interestingly, they didn't report feeling more anxious. This suggests that people can remain on high alert without being fully aware of it. In relationships, this means a partner might appear calm or disengaged, but their nervous system may still be on high alert, bracing for emotional discomfort. Over time, they may begin to suppress their needs, avoid vulnerability and minimize their emotional presence. Emotional withdrawal, then, isn't always a deliberate choice to shut down. It can be an automatic response to an environment that no longer feels safe for open expression. This withdrawal often shows up in relationships with anxious-avoidant dynamics, where one partner desires closeness but fears rejection, while the other withdraws to avoid emotional overwhelm. It leads to a breakdown in communication and, over time, weakens emotional connection. Rebuilding safety in this context starts with awareness. Notice when silence is a reflex. Ask yourself: 'What am I holding back, and why?' or 'What response am I afraid of?' Even small moments of recognition can begin to shift this pattern. This kind of silence is subtle, but often more troubling. It signals that one or both partners have withdrawn — not just from conflict, but from meaningful emotional connection. On the surface, the relationship may appear functional: chores get done, conversations happen, routines are followed. But the emotional presence is missing. There are no check-ins, no real curiosity and no sense of shared inner life. Research on a concept called 'decoupling,' often explored in acceptance and mindfulness-based therapies, offers a useful lens. In clinical settings, decoupling refers to a weakening of the automatic link between internal experiences (like distress, cravings or pain) and behavioral responses. For example, someone might feel anxious without avoiding a situation, or experience an urge to smoke without acting on it. This response flexibility is considered adaptive, as it allows for more intentional and less reactive choices. In relationships, however, a similar process can unfold unintentionally — and with less helpful consequences. When someone feels repeatedly dismissed, invalidated or emotionally let down, they may begin to disengage. Emotional reactions become muted. Needs go unspoken. Over time, the person may stop expecting their partner to respond at all. They continue performing the roles of the relationship, but without the emotional engagement that gives those roles meaning. This is known as psychological disengagement, and it's a strong predictor of relational breakdown. Unlike conflict, it often flies under the radar because things seem 'fine.' But beneath the surface, emotional connection is quietly unraveling. Left unaddressed, this pattern can lead to emotional divorce — a state in which the relationship continues in form, but not in feeling. If this silence feels familiar, resist the urge to provoke a reaction just to break the stillness. Instead, begin with a more honest reflection: 'When did I stop reaching for them?' 'When did they stop reaching back?' Reconnection doesn't begin with confrontation. It begins by tuning into the parts of yourself that went quiet first, not out of fear, but out of the belief that no one was listening. Remember, silence can either be reverent, or it can be a retreat from emotional risk. It can say 'I feel safe with you,' or it can scream 'I've given up on being understood.' In relationships, the most dangerous silences are the ones that go unacknowledged — the ones that become so normal we forget they weren't always there. So, listen. Not just with your ears, but with your intuition. When words are absent, ask yourself: 'What's this silence protecting?' 'What truth is it avoiding?' 'What need is it hiding?' Often, what's not said is the most important message of all. If either silence feels familiar, take a moment to reflect on where your relationship stands using this science-backed test: Relationship Satisfaction Scale
