Seek Silence

Lean back in your chair. . .

and listen.

We are so used to noise and distraction that we may have forgotten what silence means. Just lean back in your chair for ten minutes (check it by your watch), close your eyes and listen to the many sounds coming to your ears. If we try this, we will observe some remarkable reactions. First, we notice many sounds we were not even aware of. Some are soft, some amazingly loud. Traffic in the distance. Music drifting in from across the road. A curtain rustling in the draft. The beating of our heart . . .

Then we may become distracted. We are conscious of thoughts and words flooding our mind, obliterating the external sounds. This is internal 'noise'. It is the noise we create ourselves. At this point we may feel like getting up and doing something . . . It is as if the silence oppresses us, frightens us.

Why is it so?

Why is it that we seek noise, want noise? Why do some of us become almost physically unwell when we are exposed to silence? While in the dentist's waiting room, we will desperately look for some reading matter. Going out for a picnic, we will carry a transistor radio with us. Many of us go through the day, from morning till night, being talked to, or whenever not, incessantly talking to ourselves. It does not cross our minds to halt this flow even for a few minutes, simply to enjoy silence, to observe things around us, to look and listen.

Psychologists point to existential fear as the root cause of our clinging to inner noise. Existential fear means anxiety about being what we are. In our subconscious we harbour painful and unpleasant realities. We feel inadequate or personally insecure. We nurture unresolved conflicts with people at home or at work. We are afraid of suffering and death. Since we dare not face these realities, we suppress them. We drown them in noise.

Or noise may simply have become a habit of life, an addiction, a practice we hang on to because we have forgotten how sweet and liberating silence can be. Like always insisting on strong tea because we have lost the taste for a delicious glass of pure water.

But if we want to attain a deeper awareness of reality, if we want to free ourselves from self-imposed taboos, if we want to transcend the flow of trivialities, if we want to understand the things that really matter, we have to learn to withdraw in silence.

Silence actually has a beauty all its own. It is pure like fresh air in the mountains, like crystal drops in a spring. All religious traditions stress this need of withdrawal, of facing ourselves and Reality in silence./p>

Suggested practice

It is essential, therefore, that you find time in your daily schedule for silence.

In practice this means two things.

First, use the natural moments of silence that come your way. You may be waiting for a bus. You may be washing up. You may be walking home from shopping or from work. You should savour these opportunities of silent concentration, even when performing routine actions.

Second, set aside, at least once a day, a fixed period of time for explicit withdrawal in 'inner, withdrawal to silence'. This could be fifteen minutes, or half an hour. Some people find the morning best, before going to work; others prefer the evening. Whatever time it is, you should make sure that it is a time when you can switch off all outer and inner noise. Once you have acquired the habit, you will find it so rewarding that you will not like to miss it on any day.

Text from: JOHN WIJNGAARDS, Stepping into the Seven Circles of Prayer, London 1993.