Welcome to Brothers and Sisters, the weekly meet-up for prayer* and community at Daily Kos. We put an asterisk on pray* to acknowledge that not everyone uses conventional religious language, but may want to share joys and concerns, or simply take solace in a meditative atmosphere. Anyone who comes in the spirit of mutual respect, warmth and healing, is welcome.
Silence is more than absence of speech. It can be an essential part of emptying oneself to make room for someone or something else.
Ocne in a class on the symphony, the late William Heartt Reese asked a group of us at Haverford College what the motif was of the Beethoven Fifth Symphony. One young man said "dit-dit-dit-DAH" almost as if doing the Morse code for the letter V. Reese told him he was wrong, to look at the score, that the motif was "rest-dit-dit-dit-DAH." That rest was an essential part of that structure.
Sometimes it is surprising or sudden silences. Beethoven is famous for them.
Sometimes it is that we need to remind ourselves of the need we have for silence.
As I write this, if I am silent I can hear - the ticking of a pendulum clock, the clacking of the keys, the sound of birds outside in our holly bush, the padded footsteps of a cat coming down the stairs.
In Psalm 46:10 we read Be still, and know that I am God - perhaps it is only in such stillness that we can truly know our own hearts.
I draw wisdom and insight from the words I encounter, but often the most meaningful words are themselves coming from a deeper place, one rooted in stillness, in interior silence.
There is a famous passage from First Kings 19:
And he said, Go forth, and stand upon the mount before the LORD. And, behold, the LORD passed by, and a great and strong wind rent the mountains, and brake in pieces the rocks before the LORD; but the LORD was not in the wind: and after the wind an earthquake; but the LORD was not in the earthquake:
And after the earthquake a fire; but the LORD was not in the fire: and after the fire a still small voice.
And it was so, when Elijah heard it, that he wrapped his face in his mantle, and went out, and stood in the entering in of the cave.
It was only in the still small voice that Elijah knew he was hearing the voice of the Lord.
I am a Friend by Convincement. I was not raised among the Quakers, but first came to know them 48 years ago as a freshman at Haverford. I was amazed by the stillness, the settling down. Sometime Meetings for worship remain completely silent. Sometimes people are moved to speak from within that external silence, which they have taken into themselves and then heard or felt something to be shared. I know that when I truly feel called to deliver a message at Meeting for Worship, it arises from that very stillness, that interior silence.
There is a tale from the early Desert Fathers, as presented by Sister Benedicta Ward:
The same Abba Theophilus, the archbishop, came to Scetis one day. The brethren who were assembled said to Abba Pambo, 'Say something to the Archbishop, so that he may be edified.' The old man said to them, 'If he is not edified by my silence, he will not be edified by my speech.'
Sometimes as a teacher I must respect the silence. We call it "wait time." We do not immediately fill the air with our response to a question. We let it hang, and let the students reflect, which they will not do should we speak too soon.
In Orthodox Christianity there is the practice of hesychasm. Some misunderstand this as quietism. It is not. It is the developing of an interior stillness from which a connection with something deeper becomes possible. There are connections with Buddhist practice as well.
But I seek not to offer observations derived from the study of comparative religion.
Stop. Settle into a position where one's body is alert, but still.
At first, simply focus on your breathing. Listen to it. Be aware of the physical sensation. Let it slow of itself.
Perhaps you can even hear your heart beat,
Let go of conscious thought - your mind at first will seek to fill the space you are creating. Don't fight it, simply let go, and settle.
Until I am silent, how can I truly hear another?
Unless I am silent, can I really hear my own mind, my own heart, my own spirit?
Now to this stillness and silence one can bring one's concern - for the world, for others.
Now from this stillness and silence one can express one's care, or if you prefer one's love.
As I post this diary, I come to the end of my 65th year, in the morning celebrating the start of another upon my birthday.
I know that before I entered the world I was silent
I know that when I leave the world I will again be silent, although perhaps some of my words will continue beyond my presence.
I know that in silence and stillness I have found both challenges and solutions.
I also know that in silence and stillness I have experienced true love and peace.
If I am still, a cat will curl up against me, I will the warmth and the purring.
If I can reach however briefly a moment of silence and stillness, I begin to experience the world and all that is in it anew - with fresh eyes as well as open ears and nostrils.
I have an image. It comes from a long ago TV series on religion called The Long Search. It is the end of the episode on Theravadan Buddhism. We see a monk in his robes, walking slowly while barefoot. Unlike most of the episodes, there is no music for the credits. For several minutes we see him slowly walking, doing walking meditation, feeling with his bare feet for the stones that inform him to turn and walk back. The only sounds are those of the natural world.
Try it sometime. Perhaps outside. Perhaps in a space in a hallway. Simply walk slowly. Be conscious without thinking of what you are doing. Be silent. Be still and economical in your movement.
Can I carry that stillness, that interior silence, with me in the midst of a busy world?
Can I stay sane if I cannot?
Be Still
Be present to all that is around me.
Peace.