Love this sentence: “But it is only in rare moments of deadening silence, when the senses lie dormant, that the nameless voice within, a voice unperturbed by external perception and unburdened by expectation, speaks.” And no worries being busy, we’ll be here waiting for when you post ;)
This is so beautiful and apt. I have had many moments of self-realisation while sitting or lying down in silence. Alone but never lonely. Because in the silence, the self speaks.
Aaah... yes. Solitude my favourite state and space. And silence? For me there are two aspects to marrying these states/spaces. There is the simple aspect of no external noise which must be artificial: I lived on an island with hubby and dog, without electricity for more than 3 years - nature is noisy! So this ‘sound of silence’ for me means simply ‘peace’. But I understand that for most, silence means the absence of ‘modern life impinging on our physical state’... maybe? Certainly I have never experienced ‘no sound at all’ - even my body is noisy. Again Buddhist thinking as hubby often describes encompasses ‘the sound of silence’ - an acknowledgment that there is more to it... as I see it - external‘silence’ simply invites internal engagement which I think is exactly what your saying in a far more beautiful way than I?
Life is full of rhythms and cycles so no worries on any hiatus or reduced activity here - capitalism may not recognise this imperative but I do. Always enjoy your words. With gratitude...
Thanks Lynn - always a joy to read your insights and comments. They inspire me to think more deeply. I like the differentiation between external silence and inward engagement. It has an almost rhythmic relationship. Interestingly I find music making (playing my guitar or piano) a type of 'silence' that allows me to look within - perhaps music shares, on some ethereal plane, a similar vibrational frequency to silence.
I too would love to experience some form of 'remoteness' at some point in my life. Although I would struggle without electricity but perhaps it is all a matter of perspective and we are usually more resilient than we think.
Interesting that ‘making music’ should be a kind of silence for you rather than listening - I agree - two general observations I have (not personal) are that music making is often a refuge for troubled and autistic minds - and I’ve always recognised the link between how musicians are often also ‘mathematicians’ - I believe it’s the rhythmic beats - like drumming and shamanistic techniques that invoke different brain waves - all very positive and healthy!
The painting you chose is stunning. I stared at it for long moments.
So much modernity assaults our senses that when my house loses power on occasion, it's like a gift from the heavens and I actually feel my body release tension. No refrigerator hum, or TV, or phone, or faint buzzes from lights.
To be honest, I find myself at times using distractions to ward of the inward silence, believing the ego's lies that what I'll find will bring great discomfort. Funny, it never has. It makes me wonder if the modern distractions have become a drug my brain demands more of. This piece is a great reminder of silence and its vast power.
Thanks Renee! I often spend quite a while choosing an accompanying picture for these essays. I feel they are important in setting the right ambience.
I too am guilty of numbing myself with distractions - it seems like an easy fix to avoid confronting truths that I find overwhelming. I think you make a good point - technology in many ways and other commercial services have leveraged distraction as a key selling point.
There is outer silence, utter quiet, the unerving lack of any aural reference for the mind to engage, and without which it craves distraction like the body craves breath. There is too a silence just beside utter quiet that persists often unperceived at it's margins, and is so unshakeable that it does not depend on the misplaced authority of thought nor on quiet.
Love this sentence: “But it is only in rare moments of deadening silence, when the senses lie dormant, that the nameless voice within, a voice unperturbed by external perception and unburdened by expectation, speaks.” And no worries being busy, we’ll be here waiting for when you post ;)
Thanks for the kind words Jibran. I'm slowly re-establishing my writing routine after a bit of a hiatus. :)
i enjoyed this line too. the power of solitude and ... stillness. what a luxury today.
This is so beautiful and apt. I have had many moments of self-realisation while sitting or lying down in silence. Alone but never lonely. Because in the silence, the self speaks.
Thanks for the comment. Beautifully said. The self does indeed rise up in silence - it is a reassuring feeling. :)
Aaah... yes. Solitude my favourite state and space. And silence? For me there are two aspects to marrying these states/spaces. There is the simple aspect of no external noise which must be artificial: I lived on an island with hubby and dog, without electricity for more than 3 years - nature is noisy! So this ‘sound of silence’ for me means simply ‘peace’. But I understand that for most, silence means the absence of ‘modern life impinging on our physical state’... maybe? Certainly I have never experienced ‘no sound at all’ - even my body is noisy. Again Buddhist thinking as hubby often describes encompasses ‘the sound of silence’ - an acknowledgment that there is more to it... as I see it - external‘silence’ simply invites internal engagement which I think is exactly what your saying in a far more beautiful way than I?
Life is full of rhythms and cycles so no worries on any hiatus or reduced activity here - capitalism may not recognise this imperative but I do. Always enjoy your words. With gratitude...
Thanks Lynn - always a joy to read your insights and comments. They inspire me to think more deeply. I like the differentiation between external silence and inward engagement. It has an almost rhythmic relationship. Interestingly I find music making (playing my guitar or piano) a type of 'silence' that allows me to look within - perhaps music shares, on some ethereal plane, a similar vibrational frequency to silence.
I too would love to experience some form of 'remoteness' at some point in my life. Although I would struggle without electricity but perhaps it is all a matter of perspective and we are usually more resilient than we think.
Interesting that ‘making music’ should be a kind of silence for you rather than listening - I agree - two general observations I have (not personal) are that music making is often a refuge for troubled and autistic minds - and I’ve always recognised the link between how musicians are often also ‘mathematicians’ - I believe it’s the rhythmic beats - like drumming and shamanistic techniques that invoke different brain waves - all very positive and healthy!
Most agreed. Learning to appreciate the silence is critical. Especially in the very noisy (raucous) rough & tumble world we inhabit.
So well said! It is indeed a noisy world out there with little room for pause. Like a hamster wheel that never stops!
The painting you chose is stunning. I stared at it for long moments.
So much modernity assaults our senses that when my house loses power on occasion, it's like a gift from the heavens and I actually feel my body release tension. No refrigerator hum, or TV, or phone, or faint buzzes from lights.
To be honest, I find myself at times using distractions to ward of the inward silence, believing the ego's lies that what I'll find will bring great discomfort. Funny, it never has. It makes me wonder if the modern distractions have become a drug my brain demands more of. This piece is a great reminder of silence and its vast power.
Thanks Renee! I often spend quite a while choosing an accompanying picture for these essays. I feel they are important in setting the right ambience.
I too am guilty of numbing myself with distractions - it seems like an easy fix to avoid confronting truths that I find overwhelming. I think you make a good point - technology in many ways and other commercial services have leveraged distraction as a key selling point.
There is outer silence, utter quiet, the unerving lack of any aural reference for the mind to engage, and without which it craves distraction like the body craves breath. There is too a silence just beside utter quiet that persists often unperceived at it's margins, and is so unshakeable that it does not depend on the misplaced authority of thought nor on quiet.