Dying to Connect - insights from 20 hours of Silence.

Dying to Connect - insights from 20 hours of Silence. 

I was recently part of the 20Talk, 20-hour challenge— where I had to sit in a taped square 2m2 in a warehouse in Perth with only a few items - a bed, chair, water bottle and journal ... no phone and no talking. Just your own thoughts. 

I'm writing this Blogpost to thank 20Talk for such great work they do in supporting young people to have better mental health, the people who sponsored me to do the challenge and the other participants who shared the 20hours with me. 

There was nearly 300 of us in that shed , the shed without a clock, but every hour a gong was struck to give you some idea of the time. 

What stood out for me was the shared silence, and the weight behind it .

Across the 20 hours we did a few activities , silently passing notes to one another encouraging each other to keep going.

Also a shared journal where we could write our stories down and pass the book on to read others stories too.

A common thread kept showing up—people are craving connection. Not surface-level interaction, not likes or comments, but real, human, honest connection. The kind where you feel seen. Heard. Understood.

And the truth is, some people are quietly breaking without it.

We live in a time where we’ve never been more “connected”—yet people are, quite literally, dying from a lack of real connection. Loneliness isn’t just uncomfortable; it’s dangerous. It impacts mental health, physical health, and overall wellbeing in ways I feel we are only just beginning to fully understand it. 

But the activity that has stayed with me the most was an eye gazing exercise we did... I was not even going to do it, but after reading a story in the shared journal of a girl who missed out on it the previous year, it encouraged me to give it a try! 

We were invited to all stand up and walk around the warehouse, then if we nodded at someone and they nodded back we would stand 1.5m away from them and gaze into their eyes. Some people remained in their squares, others like me got up and started walking around. 

As I left my square, I immediately felt someone behind me. I turned around, smiled and nodded at her and she returned the same gesture. We began looking deeply into each others eyes. 

No fixing.
No judging. No talking.
Just being present.

It was WILD. A little extreme, but we were allowed to put our hands on our chest if we wanted to stop... Maybe it is my competitive nature, but I said to myself I am not putting my hand on my chest, til she does. The whole exercise we were told was going to take 14 mins. 

5mins in and neither of us looked like we were going to tap. I saw in her alot of things, sadness, fear, joy, depth and myself. But the thing that struck me was the vastness I saw in her. After about 7mins she placed her hand on her chest and the exercise stopped and we moved onto other people. 

The experience truly moved me and after the 20hours we had a short chat and we went on our seperate ways. But I remember saying a few broken sentences of grattitude that she and I shared the experience. The vastness I saw in her made me realise the vastness we all share and that simply being alive is a real miracle. 

It reminded me how rare this connection with others and self has become.

We’ve built busy lives. Fast lives. Digitally connected lives. But somewhere along the way, we’ve lost many of the spaces where real connection naturally happens.

And yet, the need is still there—stronger than ever.

It’s why communities matter.

Not just in theory, but in practice.

In places like our gym floor, something powerful happens. People show up for fitness, but what they often find is connection. They find familiar faces. Encouragement. Shared struggle. A sense that they belong.

It’s not just about reps and results—it’s about relationships.

I see it every day.

A simple “how are you?” that turns into a meaningful conversation.
A tough workout that becomes a shared experience.
A room full of people who might not have crossed paths otherwise, but now feel connected through something bigger.

And after the 20Talk challenge, it hit even deeper.

These moments aren’t small.

They matter.

Because sometimes the difference between someone feeling okay and not okay… is whether they feel alone.

So maybe the takeaway is this:

Check in with self and others.
Make time.
Create space.

You don’t need to have the perfect words. You don’t need to solve anything.

Just be there.

Because in a world where people are quietly struggling…

Connection might just be the most powerful thing we can offer.

And right now, more than ever—

People are dying for it.