The silence after a shot is louder than the shot

I was watching a kid on the range today—first time at prone, trembling like a leaf. He fired, missed wide left. Didn’t flinch. Just stood there, eyes closed, breathing slow. And in that gap between breaths? The air hummed. Not empty. Full. Like the whole world held its breath with him. I’ve trained dozens of athletes, but I still don’t know how to teach that moment. It’s not skill. It’s listening. And sometimes, when the silence settles just right… it feels like the body remembers what the mind forgot.