The Fullness of Silence

Silence is a difficult space for most people, if not all of us. We’ve been conditioned in the past 150 years or so to not only tolerate noise, but to need it, to even crave it. Our environment fairly screams with noise: cars, planes, sirens, horns, bells, dogs, jackhammers, chainsaws - all the seemingly “normal” sounds of modern life, enveloping all of us with an oppressive blanket of sound, loud enough to dampen thought, to push down feelings. It’s a bit disconcerting when you think about it.

It’s now become commonplace to see people with the ever-present ear-buds plugged in, music or podcasts precluding any stray chance for silence to peek through. It’s not unusual to have beachgoers blare music loud from portable speakers and phones, from some inexplicable need to drown out the quiet of surf and bird and breeze. Even those dulcet sounds of seashore rhythms are too silent for some; there must be a note of discordant sound introduced; it’s as if they cannot tolerate what might percolate up from within if the noise were silenced - even for a few short hours at the seashore.

For some of us, silence is intolerable; for many, it’s simply uncomfortable and unwelcome, because we are afraid of what will bubble up from within in the silence of the moment, or heaven forbid - over the course of an hour. The fear of what monsters might lurk within our very souls is far greater than we understand; we simply know that we must not let down our guard lest we come to a silent place in which we need to face the inner turmoil, the false self-image we’ve crafted for ourselves to thrive and survive. We don’t want to face our dark and wounded shadow-self, and so we make very sure there is no space in which that can happen. All addictions, all intentional distractions - these are all ways in which we erect our defenses and pretend we are fine. And we are not. We are simply dancing with our shadow-self. (See last week’s blog for more on the shadow-self: https://simplysacredlife.com/blog/shadow-dancing)

So - if I’m using noise to avoid the discovery of my shadow-dark self, then perhaps - if I really do want to stop the “shadow dance” - I need to screw up the courage to willingly embrace the silence and acknowledge the fear - and simply enter into the fray. As most things, once we face our fear, and engage actively with what we are afraid of, the fear dissipates; there’s nothing left to feed it.

Silence is a powerful tool; there’s a very good reason that all major world religions embraced silence as a very real, very effective and compassionate spiritual discipline towards self-discovery and joy. Silence has proven itself invaluable in giving us the spiritual strength and resilience to face our shadows, to face our weaknesses and failings and the things we don’t like about ourselves, and provide us with the inner space, resources, and strength to overcome, to conquer; simply put - to become better, happier and peace-filled human beings.

Initially, embracing the practice of regularly being silent is hard: it’s hard to walk away from any addiction, and the addiction to noise is no different. And as with any addiction, we are pretty skilled at dressing up our motivation as something “good”, and not as our means of self-soothing, as a means of facing our demons. We turn on the TV of an evening to relax after a stressful day (no matter that our program choice may provide more stress in one hour than what occurred at work in our entire day!) We put on worship music to keep out the silence, and feel good about it, rationalizing that - after all - I’m worshiping! That’s good! Or we put on a podcast or an audiobook, and feel good about expanding our knowledge and understanding. Or we tune in to our favorite piece of music and for a few moments we are carried away in the memories they evoke, or their beauty and richness. These distractions are not bad in their own right, but they cannot replace our deep need for silence in which the only sound we hear is perhaps, the quiet beat of our hearts, or the whisper of the breeze through the trees.

I speak from years of experience of attempting to shut out the silence; of coming up with beautiful distractions, healthy and good in and of themselves, but also oh! so effective in keeping the silence at bay. For years, I “played” with entering silence, thrusting and parrying between sound and silence like a macabre play between light and dark - so I know whereof I speak. It’s human to try and avoid pain; but in the end, if we want to enter into a greater space of peace and wholeness, something’s got to give, and we have to begin somewhere. I suggest we begin with silence; it’s simple and effective. It’s free; it’s nondenominational. It’s flexible and accessible at any time of day or night. It’s forgiving - if we only give it a chance.

Silence is rich and filled with promise; it is a fullness in itself. Silence removes all the externals we surround ourselves with, stripping away all our “shiny pennies” until all we are left with are the thoughts in our minds - which in and of themselves can blare loud and discordant - more distracting than a heavy metal band blaring at 95 decibels 10 feet away. Silence strips away our defense mechanisms. It creates a space in which we must confront the very fact that we are running from our own thoughts, thoughts that tell us we are broken; that proclaim our inadequacies; that remind us of our failures and losses and countless mistakes. In the silence, they all come rushing forward. In the silence, they stand in judgment, and we feel the shroud of failure that they drape upon our hearts. There’s a reason silence is scary for most of us; it can be a dangerous place.

Initially, silence truly is a “fullness of itself” - full of all we’ve pushed down and hidden away. But over time and with practice, silence eventually becomes the “fullness of God”. Like most good things that come our way, we must be willing to do the hard work needed to get us to that place. In order to confront that shadow-self, it’s necessary to allow those negative thoughts and feelings to come forward so that they can be wrestled with - and yes, conquered.

If you are on a spiritual quest to discover your True Self (you are not alone; think of all the fables and tales of noble quests throughout the centuries and across all cultures; they are each a morality story that gives context and reality to every person’s quest to find their “True Self” in some fashion), then silence is your first weapon; and that weapon must be yielded in prayer and trust - trust that God is with you in the process of this self-discovery.

Begin with a short prayer to settle your mind. My favorite is “Be still and know that I am God”, but anything works that will help to quiet your mind. And then, be quiet. That’s it. Be quiet. Begin with whatever amount of silence you can tolerate: five minutes? ten? thirty? It doesn’t matter how long; all that matters is that you begin. And begin again. And again. And keep at it. This is not intended to be a time of prayer, but of simply being quiet, remaining silent before God. No engagement, no whispered confessions. Just the silence.

If you need to be doing something, be silent while walking outdoors, or while doing a gardening task. Be silent yet aware of the natural sounds around you. If you can, sit still in a chair and simply “be”. This is not meditation or prayer, this is simply a quiet time to be peaceful. It’s harder than you think. But it’s also easier than you think - especially once you get started. More likely than not, your new “addiction” just may become these times of peace-filled silence.

And next week we’ll move to the next phase of refusing the Shadow Dance. Till then, find - and then enjoy - some quiet, silent, peace-filled times.