Silence

Silence is pure. Silence is holy. It draws people together because only those who are comfortable with each other can sit without speaking.

~Nicholas Sparks

Blessed is the man who, having nothing to say, abstains from giving us wordy evidence of the fact.

~George Eliot

How would you describe the soundtrack of your life?

What is the nature of the sounds—both those inside your head and those reaching your ears—that you hear moment-by-moment and day-to-day?

Do you ever experience silence? Are you comfortable with it?

My soundtrack is very musical. Music helps motivate me and influences my mood. I listen to music in the car, when I exercise, and at other times where I might have chosen silence. But silence is never really silent, is it? I often run in very beautiful places that have a soundtrack all their own. Running in the woods provides a symphony of natural sounds that are every bit as inspiring and motivational as music. Wind in the leaves, the sounds of animals, the sounds of running water—all these make for a unique and much more subtle soundtrack—and one that is more interactive. We have to notice the subtleties and nuances of natural sounds to appreciate them.

We also have a soundtrack when we interact with people.

People often judge whether or not they click with someone through conversation. This can be one way to see what another person is interested in or passionate about. We can also see whether or not we have chemistry with another person—whether or not we have the same rhythm and the same sense of humor—whether we see the world in the same way.

I enjoy getting to know people through conversation, but when I really get to know someone, I try to see how comfortable we are with a lack of conversation. It’s easy to notice similarities when speaking to someone else, but I don’t feel I really know someone until I discover whether we are comfortable in silence.

I can always talk if I need to fill silences—if the other person is noticeably uncomfortable with silence. I ask questions to draw the other person out. If that’s not working, I can always just talk (heck, I could talk for an hour about baseball any time), but to me that is much less illuminating than seeing how we react to lapses in conversation and what comes up that periodically breaks those lapses. Peoples’ manner when they’re silent, and the nature of what rises to the surface to break those silences, is way more meaningful to me than a constant hum of polite chatter.

I’m not much of a hunter, but my father-in-law was as avid a hunter as a hunter can be. He lived and breathed to strap on the waders and sit in a marsh. I hunted with him regularly for a while, and if I didn’t know what silence was before those experiences, I sure as hell am an expert now. On a slow day, we could literally go for hours without a word, then out of the blue, and in his patently understated way, he would sigh and say, “Come on, ducks…” He was someone with whom I was completely and totally comfortable without any conversation whatsoever. He was a scientist and could tell me anything about everything in front of us, but he didn’t feel the need to talk just for the sake of talking. It was something I always appreciated about him.

Another way to think about our comfort level with silence is to consider whether our internal dialogue ever pauses or decreases. We all have inner-dialogues—that little voice that keeps us company (or torments us) as we travel through our days. Sometimes it can be helpful, but it can also be harmful and can express self-doubt, worry, regret and other expressions that chip away at our psyche. But its constant presence is also something to think about. Is your internal dialogue—your flow of thoughts—ever absent?

It can be helpful to pay attention to our flow of thoughts, and it can also be helpful to periodically try to make them stop. Is it possible to stop thinking altogether? Yes, but it can be difficult. When I learned to meditate, I was taught to observe my flow of thoughts and let them pass by. Periodically, they will cease. If we can learn to recognize those instances and exist there for a time, we can gain great insight into ourselves. We can be both the thinker and the person who observes the thinker (see “Content”). We can get past the flow of internal chatter and arrive at a deeper place in ourselves. A place of silence and serenity. We all need that once in a while.

What makes up the soundtrack of your life?