Sounds of Silence

In my last blog I said I'd done two things that were different and I wrote about the first: not doing. The second thing I did yesterday that I've never done before was to go into silence. I've done a couple of silent retreats for several days at a time where everyone is in silence, but I've never done silence out in the world just for the heck of it.

When I got up the first time this morning at 5:30 a.m., I forgot my intent to be in silence... So I spoke a few words to my sweetie before I remembered, who was puzzled when I suddenly stopped responding verbally ("What happened to your voice?"). When I gave the "locked lips" signal, it was clear; we'd talked about it the night before ("Ah - you're doing the silence thing."). I thought it was funny that my voice was missed because usually I believe I talk way too much!

After my sweetie left for the day I had the house to myself. I committed to staying offline, not texting, not watching TV and not listening to music too. I did have to respond to a couple of calls, texts and emails that required attention but after that I closed those doors. When I headed to Austin that afternoon for a meeting and to assist with a Toltec class, I gave myself permission to break the silence if necessary within those contexts. But for socializing, silence. 

Two weeks ago I made myself a sign to wear around my neck that says "I am in silence" in anticipation of whenever I decided to do this practice. It worked really well today. People are funny when they read it; they think they can't talk to you either!

But that's not true; I can listen really well and not talk at all. In fact, I can listen better. It's just that when you don't respond to people, they don't know what to do; they are looking for something habitual that's not present in your silence. It's a fabulous game!


I rediscovered yesterday that being in silence deepens your relationship to the whole world. Everything seems brighter, louder, sharper, clearer, more vibrant and more intense. A deeper level of presence, intimacy and love emerges naturally - at least on the silent end.

By midday I was prepared to stay in silence for at least four days; by nightfall, I knew it would be longer - indefinite. Why? Because of what's already emerging through the silence. I like it; no, I love it. Silence brings a freshness to things that gets overshadowed by talking.

But for me it's not just sounds necessarily; it's words. Words seem to create an artificial limitation to sound, giving it a feeling of sharpness or a quality of cutting through space in a disturbing way. But other sounds did not have this affect on me. Whereas I felt startled by my own words when I accidentally spoke a few to my dog this morning, I was not at all startled by the sound of the door closing, the A/C blowing, the chair squeaking or the birds chirping. And although I felt startled by the voices at meetings today, I was not at all startled by the night sounds on my drive home - the crickets, cars and wind... Interesting. This is something I will bring awareness to in my extended silence.

More on that later...