We live in a world that never stops speaking.
Voices rise from screens, scrolls, and feeds. Notifications interrupt silence before it can settle.
Conversation is constant. Talking is expected. Silence feels awkward, even suspect.
But beneath the clatter, a question waits:
What is the cost of all this noise?
Why We Fill the Silence
Not all conversation is bad.
Some words bring comfort, insight, belonging. We speak to connect, to share joy, to lighten the load of a heavy day.
But much of our speech is different—frantic, empty, habitual.
We talk because we’re uncomfortable.
Because we want to belong.
Because the silence might show us something about ourselves we’re not quite ready to face.
We speak without grounding.
We speak to fill the space.
And so we miss the invitation in the silence—the whisper beneath the noise.
The Celtic Saints and the Reverence for Speech
In early Celtic Christianity, silence wasn’t just the absence of sound—it was the presence of something sacred.
Saints like Brigid, Cuthbert, and Kevin of Glendalough understood that the space between words mattered just as much as the words themselves.
They spent hours in solitude, in prayer, in listening—not because they rejected the world, but because they wanted to speak from a deeper place when they returned to it.
To speak without silence was to risk losing one’s centre.
In the Rule of St. Columbanus, monks were advised to “guard their lips as they would their hearts.” Words were considered tools of either healing or harm. Casual, careless speech was not just seen as a distraction—it was a spiritual danger.
The Wound of Superfluous Words
We often walk away from long conversations feeling drained rather than fed.
Not because of what was said—but because of what was missed:
- The moment when we could have simply listened
- The choice to be still rather than fill the space
- The deeper truth that was lost beneath cleverness or comfort
Even when conversations are good-natured, too much can cloud the soul.
We feel the ache of a connection not quite made, a presence not quite kept.
“Many a time I wish that I had held my peace,” says the old text. (Thomas A. Kempis)
Not from shame, but from recognition: silence would have brought more peace than speech.
Not All Speech Is Equal
The soul doesn’t need noise.
It needs truth, beauty, and stillness.
And these are rarely found in constant chatter.
Words born from rest, prayer, and listening carry a different weight.
They do not fill space—they deepen it.
They do not scatter—they gather.
They do not control—they bless.
This is why the Celtic monks would often pray before speaking, even in company. Their words weren’t for performance—they were for peace.
The Practice of Holy Conversation
There is a kind of speech that brings life.
It happens when hearts are quiet.
When egos step aside.
When what is said is anchored in Spirit, not in striving.
This is what Thomas à Kempis points to—not an avoidance of people, but an awareness of the inner cost of casual talk.
When we speak without listening first—to God, to our soul, to the moment—we often miss the truth.
But when we allow our words to rise slowly, like incense, they become acts of worship.
How to Speak Like a Celtic Saint in the 21st Century
Here are some practices you might begin to weave into your day, grounded in ancient wisdom, but deeply needed now:
🌿 1. Let Silence Be the First Voice
Before you speak, pause.
Even for just a breath.
Ask inwardly: Is this necessary? Is it kind? Is it rooted in peace?
🌿 2. Speak with Intent, Not Habit
Speak slowly.
Don’t fill the space just because it’s empty.
Sometimes, the deepest connections come from shared stillness, not shared stories.
🌿 3. Choose Sacred Companionship
The early Celtic monks sought spiritual friends—those with whom silence was comfortable and words were wise.
Seek your anam cara—your soul friend—those with whom you can talk of things that truly matter.
🌿 4. Watch for the Energy of Your Words
Notice how your body feels after a conversation.
Lighter? Heavier? Scattered? Grounded?
The soul knows what it needs—and what drains it.
🌿 5. Let Your Words Bless
Make it your quiet intention that your speech would heal, not harm.
Even in everyday exchanges, let your words be seeds of peace, not sparks of noise.
A Sacred Reminder
You don’t have to explain yourself all the time.
You don’t have to keep up the conversation just because everyone else is.
You are not less spiritual because you’re quiet.
You are not more spiritual because you talk about spiritual things.
You are becoming more whole each time you choose peace over performance.
More real each time you choose depth over noise.
More true each time you choose silence over surface.
A Blessing for the Tongue and the Soul
May your words be few, but full.
May your silence be strong enough to speak for you.
May your conversations be like wells—deep, clear, and nourishing.
And when the noise of the world rises,
may your heart remember the sacredness of stillness.
Feeling lost, stuck or disillusioned on your path?
Take a look at
Walking Together
Ancient Whispers 
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