I
appreciate a good conversation, but sometimes I crave some peace and quiet. Finding a balance between engaging discussion and comfortable silence can be challenging. While having plenty to talk about with a friend is important, it’s equally important to be able to enjoy each other’s company without constant chatter. It’s a lot to ask of someone to be captivating and interested while also recognizing when to take a break.
I don’t have any friends who bore me, if anything, it’s the opposite. However, this presents its own set of challenges. If the conversation is interesting, it requires my full attention. And if it goes on for too long, it can become exhausting.
We all need to work on giving clearer signals, but it’s a delicate situation. There’s no polite way to say, “Hey, I’ve enjoyed our conversation for the past 12 hours, but can we please take a break from talking? Don’t get me wrong, I still want you here, but for the love of God, be quiet.” This direct approach would be rude, but so are the alternatives. Pretending to sleep or picking up a book to read are impolite and often ineffective. The person keeps talking as if there’s no option for silence, as if speaking is necessary to prove they’re alive.
By the way, I have no confidence in my ability to handle this situation when I’m the one talking and one of my friends is clearly losing interest. I saw myself in Rebecca West’s travelogue, Black Lamb and Grey Falcon, where she expresses frustration with her companion, Constantine, a poet who talks non-stop. “He talks incessantly. In the morning, he comes out of his bedroom in the middle of a sentence; and at night, he backs into it, so that he can just finish one more sentence.”
When someone is on a roll, it’s hard to interrupt their flow of words. I recently had a brilliant friend stay over who, in the nicest way possible, exhausted me by mid-evening. I considered going to bed early, but it was still early in the evening. Instead, I turned on the TV, hoping to find a documentary we could both enjoy. Unfortunately, that didn’t work. I tried increasing the volume, but she matched it each time. The noise became overwhelming, and even the dog couldn’t handle it anymore. I eventually gave up.
Another friend of mine, an academic, has a subtle technique for letting me know when he’s had enough. Although it’s not the most sophisticated approach, I can see through it. Here’s how it works: when he’s starting to lose interest in our conversation, his tone of voice subtly changes to the one he uses in seminars when he’s ready to wrap things up. Even though we’re just chatting in a pub, he manages to conclude the discussion explicitly, summarize our points, and excuse himself to the restroom. I get the hint.
I’ve come up with a different idea: a signal using both hands. With a friendly expression, place an index finger to your lips in a classic shush gesture, while placing the other hand on your heart to express your affection for the person. I haven’t tried it yet, but I’ve been practicing in front of a mirror. And now, I’ll stop talking.
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