The Gift of Silence (Here to Share!)

I’ve started noticing something about myself. Whenever I’m chasing that one flicker of an idea, the kind that hides in the middle of a hundred noisy thoughts, I find myself walking. Just pacing around my room, as if the rhythm of my steps can coax the idea out of hiding. I think it’s more than a habit now. It’s something I turn to when I need to calm the storm in my head and really focus. It has become a quiet ritual.

In the past few months, I’ve begun to truly understand the gravity of silence. For most of my life, I dismissed it. I thought noise meant energy, inspiration and momentum. I was wrong. I grew up clutching onto the wrong ideas and the wrong role models. Somewhere along the way, I absorbed a scarcity mindset without even realizing it. I used to believe that creativity came from being surrounded by opinions, by voices constantly feeding into your thoughts. And for a while, it felt like a gift. Until life happened.

When you leave too many doors open in your mind, all those voices rush in. And soon, they’re not helping you anymore. They coalesce into noise. Thick and persistent noise that doesn’t just distract you. It drowns you.

There are days when the noise is so heavy and so loud that I can’t even hear myself anymore. I can’t tell what I want, what I need, or what matters to me. I know that my process, the way I work and the way I create, depends on being able to set clear expectations for myself. Not for anyone else. Just me. I’ve never thrived in competition. I don’t function well when I’m being watched or compared.

For me, moving from one point to another, any kind of growth or progress, only happens when I make a promise to myself and fight like hell to keep it. I don’t always win. Honestly, I fail more than I succeed. But that’s what makes the rare moments of victory feel so raw and powerful.

So I keep walking. Not to escape, but to return. That simple act helps me quiet everything down. It helps me get back to the task in front of me with a much clearer head.

This year, I’ve been lucky. I’ve met so many artists. And their presence has changed me in ways I can’t put into words.

One of my brother-in-law only needs a pencil and a torn piece of paper to sketch out the most soul-stirring art I’ve ever seen. There are bookstagrammers who pour their time, their energy, and their sleepless nights into thinking of creative ways to help me share my debut novel with the world. There’s a friend who dreams of starting a podcast and keeps telling me that I’ll be his first guest (Just so he can help me with the promotions). There are peers who are software developers, constantly putting in extra hours to find solutions to the problem at hand without compromising on code quality at any cost. And then, there are the painter bhaiyas working tirelessly to bring warmth and color to my parents’ home. The list goes on and on.

All of them are artists in their own right. They come from different walks of life, different struggles, and different stories. But there’s something that ties us all together, no matter how invisible it might seem to others… Silence.

It’s in the spaces where we retreat, where we regroup and where we rethink everything we thought we knew. Every artist I’ve spoken to, truly spoken to, has their own way of returning to themselves. Their own little rituals of pulling away from the noise and finding clarity in the quiet.

It’s in that silence that we rebuild. It’s in that silence that we dare to leap into the unknown.

And maybe that’s what art really is. Not noise. Not attention. But that brave, quiet moment where we choose to begin again.

To anyone who is reading this, and that includes me, because I know someday I’ll come back to this piece with older eyes and a different heart, I want to remind you of something simple but often forgotten.

You ARE an artist.

Even if the world hasn’t labeled you one. Even if you’ve never painted, danced, written, sung, or performed. Even if all you’ve done is feel deeply and try your best to make something meaningful out of this chaotic life, that is still art. And if you haven’t already, I hope you find it in yourself to embrace the power of silence.

No, silence isn’t a magical cure. It’s not a one-size-fits-all solution. But it is a starting point. A gentle nudge toward comfort, clarity, and understanding. And sometimes, that’s enough. Sometimes, just pausing, really pausing, and letting your own thoughts catch up with you can feel like taking the first breath after being underwater for too long. It’s quiet, slow, and probably everything you need in that moment.

The way I’ve come to see it, we’re all jugglers in this life. Constantly trying to keep everything in the air… responsibilities, relationships, careers, hopes, dreams, fears, and so much more. We shift our focus to patch one leak in the pipe of worry while another bursts open behind us. It’s exhausting. And it’s so easy to get trapped in that loop, believing that we’ll only be okay if we just fix the next thing.

But what if we stopped for a second? Just long enough to breathe. Long enough to remember that we're not machines designed to endlessly problem-solve. We’re people. Soft, flawed, and beautiful people trying to make sense of things.

All I ask is this: take a step back. Even if it’s just for a few minutes. Step away from the screens, the scrolls, the pressure to keep up. Let yourself be still for a bit. And in that stillness, try not to miss the chance to connect with a fellow artist, even if their art looks nothing like yours. Reach out. Say something kind. Share a piece of your journey. You might be surprised at how much lighter the weight feels when you realize you’re not carrying it alone.

The world moves fast. Faster every day. And with every tick of the clock, there's this creeping fear that if we don’t move just as fast, we’ll be left behind. But maybe slowing down is how we truly catch up, with ourselves, with our purpose, and most importantly, with each other.

There are some changes I’ve finally decided to make in my life. Real and intentional changes. And for once, I’m not just thinking about them. I’ve already started, one small step at a time. I owe that progress to the quiet spaces where I could hear myself clearly again.

To the gift of silence!

If you’ve read this far, I hope you carve out a little silence for yourself too. Until then, keep your views and questions coming! I genuinely love hearing from you. Find me on Instagram at @ankeshkprasad or drop me an email at [email protected]. I try to read and respond to every message because your words matter to me more than you know.

If you haven’t already, please do check out my debut novel, They Would Die For You—available now in both Paperback and Kindle editions.

Thank you! Truly. Take one more step and tell me what you thought of this article. Whether it’s a single line or a long message… I’d love to know. When you reach out to someone who’s poured their heart into creating something, it can mean the world. So yes, your response matters deeply to me.