To understand where my anger or other emotions are coming from. I’ve learned thru silence to invite my fears in for tea. Make friends with fear and not be reactive. To choose my battles wisely or just learned to let go of patterns that don’t serve me or others. When I was dealing with mental illness for 7 years and home bound most of the time, I didn’t realize the profoundness of my experience until years went by. (I was deconstructing old patterns that did not serve me and being guided thru love and family to be genuine, honest and loving. I still have a long way to go but I take a deep bow to silence
"Make friends with fear and not be reactive". That has been on the top of my "to do" list for a long while now - thank you Sherri. Seeing this struggle in print not only validates my personal chaos but also makes me feel less alone and more determined; affirms my ability.
I cherish the silence of the early morning each day. My partner is a late sleeper, but I am a early riser. I wake up, retrieve our dog Luna, and quietly slip downstairs for a couple of hours of silence. In cooler weather like it is currently, I sit in my recliner with Luna curled on my lap snoring gently, and contemplate whatever comes to mind. Often my thoughts first go to my son who died many years ago and I try to remember the best times we had in his six years with us. I think of my friends, especially one now who is waiting on a cancer diagnosis, and what I can do to help ease her worry.
But sometimes I just think of the mundane things in life- what I need from the grocery store or what chores are looming overhead today!
No matter the direction my thoughts take, I feel so grateful and thankful that I have the luxury of time to sit in silence each morning before facing the coming day!
Your thoughts here remind me of our prompt from last week, that of wonder. I suppose we often think of the glorious things in connection with that word, but deep loss, like yours, is also full of wonder. Mystery. Grief. I’m so sorry you lost your little boy. I pray you feel him near.
I also wake up ahead of my partner and tease him when that golden silence is broken. Sometimes too early😊 I am very sorry to read of your loss and like that you can use your quiet time to channel and cherish those memories
"I try to remember the best times we had in his six years with us." I know this kind of loss. Sitting in silence, alone on my swing with the trees and the sky above me, my thoughts also go to my son who died just six years ago. I try to let myself slip into that quiet, soft space where I can remember the best times we had" in his thirty years with us.
Susan- nothing can touch your soul like the loss of a child, the whole idea is so misplaced, that your child might die before you. I wish I could give you solace, but my experience has been that you never get over the pain. You do, however, find a way to acknowledge the hole in your heart and go on living a life enriched by having had that unconditional love.
I too, have a husband who is a night owl and sleeps in later and I am the early riser. We are empty nesters who live on the south shore of Lake Superior in a tiny, quiet town called Herbster, WI. Having just recently retired, I am so grateful for my quiet mornings. I meditate and then have 3 different resources that I read from and then reflect in my journal. A warm cup of coffee soothes me and helps gently start my day. From my chair I watch the birds that flit to my feeders from the large pines that surround our home. They bring me such joy! I feel so lucky to have this morning time to just “be” and to rejoice in the little things that I was too busy to notice while working and making an hour commute each day:)
FABULOUS column by Kimbra. I have often longed for several moments of complete silence AFTER a work has been performed. I've experienced this a couple of times before (classical music), and I wish it would happen after almost every performance! Just a couple of breaths, just experience the energy and emotion. What a fabulous plan for Kimbra and her band. The audience members must have LOVED it!! Thank you for writing about this! Yes, I love silence, I spend a good chunk of every day in complete silence. It's a luxury, I realize. I live alone with my dog. Good morning to everyone! :-)
Recently I took my developmentally delayed daughter through a labyrinth. It took about 15 minutes to walk the entire thing. I told her when we started that it must be walked in silence; and to think of what worries her and pray for relief and leave the worry on the rock in the center of the labyrinth. She and I did that together and when we finished she exclaimed joyously about feeling so good! That gave me the opportunity to talk with her about the importance of silence and the benefits of silence in our lives.
You had me at “fallow” one of my favorite words, perhaps tied with the “gloaming.” I just realized I could not write gloaming without the before it. For me, they both are deeply connected with the measurement of time. Iridescent blue light and six full breaths feels like those two words together. Thanks for this blissful moment. 💛
I crave silence. I love it. Except it’s never really silent. I can hear the clock ticking and a car driving by and the neighbour’s door closing. I grew up in the bush in Australia and it could get pretty quiet there - but there were always birds. I think that’s where my love of silence began. Silence is soothing. Calming. And amplifies our other senses.
Thanks for sharing Kimbra’s silence experiment - I haven’t seen her live (yet) but have followed her for quite a number of years. I applaud her embrace of silence 🥰
I love the idea that it's never really silent -- reading as I listen to the fridge hum and my dog lick his lips, outside the squirrels are squeaking and birds singing. And I recall the shocking silence of the evening of 9/11/2001, when no planes flew overhead, no cars or train sounds broke through, and the world had gone dumb and numb with loss. The little sounds of life in this morning's silence are reassuring.
Unfortunately, silence, the kind that is an absence of noise, no longer exists for me. Exposure to loud noises in my younger years, along with age-related hearing loss, and probably some aggravation from chemotherapy, mean I now live with the constant noise of tinnitus.
It’s just another bothersome health issue, piled in with all the rest, that I have to endure.
That being said, there are work-arounds for dealing with it, just as there are for the rest of the problems and disabilities that come from living in a well-used, traumatized body.
I keep my phone on day and night to a soft white noise that I get with an app. (Hurray for technology!) When I am sitting alone, which I do often, I don’t let my mind dwell on the anxiety and frustration of never getting away from the noise in my head. I pull my thoughts away from the ringing and let them settle on the white noise. I use my other senses to distract myself, concentrating on what I see: the colors of the autumn leaves on my trees, the gentle slope of the distant hills, the spider web tucked into the corner of my window. I let myself really feel what my hands are touching: the softness of the yarn in my hands when I knit, or the smooth pages of the book I’m reading.
And when the tension tries to take over all my other efforts, I breathe, slowly and deeply. The exercise in today’s prompt is what I do every day, taking time to relish a few moments of blissful peace despite the never-ending cacophony in my head.
I love that you share perspective on technology and how it has actually helped you embrace your new version of silence. We are so quick to blame technology (myself included) for ruining "simple" things like silence, when in fact for some it provides access to it. Silence...not so simple after all.
I know from a minor in audiology how hard this hearing disease can be. You are a warrior to be compensating so gracefully and so well. I salute your courage and commitment to letting go.
Thank you for your encouragement! I think the word "commitment" is key, what we all must have as we strive to keep going in the face of devastating problems.
I also have tinnitus from rock concerts in my youth and medications. I recently went to an audiologist in hope of treating it and was offered a hearing aid solution for $6000! So I am grateful to read your solution. ❤️❤️❤️
Silence is my favorite sound. I first experienced the power of silence in Death Valley at Zabriskie point. I was 7 or 8 and the power and weight of it I’ve never forgotten. It’s something I seek and crave. I’ve heard silence in many beautiful places in the world but I also hear it in my own environment even though I live in a big city. I live with a partner who does everything he can to drown out the silence. I don’t judge him; I know why he needs noise... but for me silence is as essential as breathing. I have a studio I work in, I’m a printmaker. I sometimes play music but I love to go in and be surrounded by my own sounds in the silence as a work. The music in silence is the most beautiful music of all.
I love that! “The music in silence is the most beautiful music of all.” I live in a very small, quiet little town. Empty nesters, there’s only my husband and I at home. Often, our home is silent - we’re off reading in different rooms, working on projects, etc. I seldom think to turn on music or the tv...I love creating in silence, with just the sounds of the natural world filtering in. It centers me, helps me focus and makes me feel safe and content.
My silence is walking miles on "my" beach at low tide (out of season), whether with a cleared mind left open to an array of thoughts, or a confused mind that will become unconfused somewhere along the miles I tread.
"whether with a cleared mind left open to an array of thoughts, or a confused mind that will become unconfused somewhere along the miles I tread" - you nailed a gorgeous visual - such truth. Thanks.
These days I awake at 4am, to enjoy and appreciate the pre-Dawn quiet. I make coffee, stand by my living room window, recite a poem, “The Presence of Trees” by Michael Glaser, then begin composing music. In the silence a feeling stirs that “chooses” the instrument, the first tone, and then through this invitation I go on a sound/silence journey. Clearly a precious time.
Years ago, in art school, a teacher introduced me to this poem:
Silence, when I was a 7 year old girl was terrifying to me. The family left me alone a lot at night so I filled my home with music and dance which saved my soul. For years now I’ve been meditating. I Looove the silence. Meditation has guided me in not being reactive, to appreciate silence, to talk and listen to the wisdom of my body and t
As a young child, I wrote poetry and drew sketches of flora and fauna. I dried flowers between the pages of the encyclopedia Brittanica and went for walks in the woods
I was often quite shy and often was encouraged to talk more though I was steadfast in the quiet of my being.
I’ve since discovered there is sweet liberation in the stillness. Nourishing my wild mind is a gift. Stillness and solitude guide me towards my center. Whispers of poems come to me. Joy emerges. Sometimes tears yet almost always catharsis.
We are often discouraged to embrace being still yet I find that there is a sacredness, indeed a holy space of connection and deep mystery in stillness.
Thank you, Suleika, Carmen, Holly, and all the IJ wonders!
It was in those moments of boredom as a child and teenager, that I learned my lovely inner life. I daydreamed my way into a portal to create, to mourn, to long for, to love for love unrequited, and to imagine a life where there was beauty, laughter, and music always. I visit "the portal" often as an adult too.
Silence is not a stranger- I cultivated silence long ago. Recently I had to remove myself from a situation with a neighbor-banal-as it reads. For years, I was accommodating and the responses were baiting and negative. At last came the end, and silence reigned. This is way different from the meditation of looking into my kitty's eyes or the beauty in my small world. Some silence is a door shutting that needed closure- long passed...
I was just thinking before reading these insightful posts this morning, about how people are so uncomfortable with silence. Before all the device addiction, people on public transportation, in waiting rooms, etc. would often sit with their thoughts, lost in a book, or sometimes chat. Now it’s difficult to make eye contact because everyone is scrolling, oblivious to what’s around them.
Suleika, you’ve inspired me to stop beginning my day with The NY Times online and start with meditation or a book. Of course the coffee and dog snuggles will remain a part of the morning ritual!
To understand where my anger or other emotions are coming from. I’ve learned thru silence to invite my fears in for tea. Make friends with fear and not be reactive. To choose my battles wisely or just learned to let go of patterns that don’t serve me or others. When I was dealing with mental illness for 7 years and home bound most of the time, I didn’t realize the profoundness of my experience until years went by. (I was deconstructing old patterns that did not serve me and being guided thru love and family to be genuine, honest and loving. I still have a long way to go but I take a deep bow to silence
"Make friends with fear and not be reactive". That has been on the top of my "to do" list for a long while now - thank you Sherri. Seeing this struggle in print not only validates my personal chaos but also makes me feel less alone and more determined; affirms my ability.
I’m glad you feel connected to what I write. We’re not alone
I love that you invite your fears to tea, Sherri! Brilliant.
I learned that thru Buddhist teachings
What an alchemical and beautiful practice. Thank you.
Bravo, you!!!
Thank you
"I've learned thru silence to invite my fears in for tea." Yes.
Love “I was deconstructing old patterns that did not serve me.” So applicable to me!
I cherish the silence of the early morning each day. My partner is a late sleeper, but I am a early riser. I wake up, retrieve our dog Luna, and quietly slip downstairs for a couple of hours of silence. In cooler weather like it is currently, I sit in my recliner with Luna curled on my lap snoring gently, and contemplate whatever comes to mind. Often my thoughts first go to my son who died many years ago and I try to remember the best times we had in his six years with us. I think of my friends, especially one now who is waiting on a cancer diagnosis, and what I can do to help ease her worry.
But sometimes I just think of the mundane things in life- what I need from the grocery store or what chores are looming overhead today!
No matter the direction my thoughts take, I feel so grateful and thankful that I have the luxury of time to sit in silence each morning before facing the coming day!
Just beautiful. ❤️
Silence is truly like oxygen - thank you for this glimpse of yours. It's beautiful.
Your thoughts here remind me of our prompt from last week, that of wonder. I suppose we often think of the glorious things in connection with that word, but deep loss, like yours, is also full of wonder. Mystery. Grief. I’m so sorry you lost your little boy. I pray you feel him near.
I also wake up ahead of my partner and tease him when that golden silence is broken. Sometimes too early😊 I am very sorry to read of your loss and like that you can use your quiet time to channel and cherish those memories
"I try to remember the best times we had in his six years with us." I know this kind of loss. Sitting in silence, alone on my swing with the trees and the sky above me, my thoughts also go to my son who died just six years ago. I try to let myself slip into that quiet, soft space where I can remember the best times we had" in his thirty years with us.
Susan- nothing can touch your soul like the loss of a child, the whole idea is so misplaced, that your child might die before you. I wish I could give you solace, but my experience has been that you never get over the pain. You do, however, find a way to acknowledge the hole in your heart and go on living a life enriched by having had that unconditional love.
Thank you, Betsy
I too, have a husband who is a night owl and sleeps in later and I am the early riser. We are empty nesters who live on the south shore of Lake Superior in a tiny, quiet town called Herbster, WI. Having just recently retired, I am so grateful for my quiet mornings. I meditate and then have 3 different resources that I read from and then reflect in my journal. A warm cup of coffee soothes me and helps gently start my day. From my chair I watch the birds that flit to my feeders from the large pines that surround our home. They bring me such joy! I feel so lucky to have this morning time to just “be” and to rejoice in the little things that I was too busy to notice while working and making an hour commute each day:)
FABULOUS column by Kimbra. I have often longed for several moments of complete silence AFTER a work has been performed. I've experienced this a couple of times before (classical music), and I wish it would happen after almost every performance! Just a couple of breaths, just experience the energy and emotion. What a fabulous plan for Kimbra and her band. The audience members must have LOVED it!! Thank you for writing about this! Yes, I love silence, I spend a good chunk of every day in complete silence. It's a luxury, I realize. I live alone with my dog. Good morning to everyone! :-)
Hear hear! I second every word of yours!
Good morning, Val. I loved that you said that.❤️
Hi Friends,
Up in the middle of the night
The silent, black night
In the chapel of my room
Alone in the sacred silence
Candles lit in remembrance of my beloveds
Flickering in presence
The gifts of this solitude and silence
The gift of life, so fragile, vibrant
Flickering but strong
Alone to think...dream...
Another day
Another chance
Another breath
~ Deborah Colette Murphy
From down a dirt road in the woods of Southern Oregon
So beautiful
Recently I took my developmentally delayed daughter through a labyrinth. It took about 15 minutes to walk the entire thing. I told her when we started that it must be walked in silence; and to think of what worries her and pray for relief and leave the worry on the rock in the center of the labyrinth. She and I did that together and when we finished she exclaimed joyously about feeling so good! That gave me the opportunity to talk with her about the importance of silence and the benefits of silence in our lives.
What a wonderful idea! I think our instinct is to think of sitting still in silence, but you're right--silence in motion is healing, too. ❤️
This is so lovely! Thank you for sharing!
You had me at “fallow” one of my favorite words, perhaps tied with the “gloaming.” I just realized I could not write gloaming without the before it. For me, they both are deeply connected with the measurement of time. Iridescent blue light and six full breaths feels like those two words together. Thanks for this blissful moment. 💛
I crave silence. I love it. Except it’s never really silent. I can hear the clock ticking and a car driving by and the neighbour’s door closing. I grew up in the bush in Australia and it could get pretty quiet there - but there were always birds. I think that’s where my love of silence began. Silence is soothing. Calming. And amplifies our other senses.
Thanks for sharing Kimbra’s silence experiment - I haven’t seen her live (yet) but have followed her for quite a number of years. I applaud her embrace of silence 🥰
Yes, this is a good point! Oftentimes, silence (on our part) reveals hidden sounds. ❤️
I love the idea that it's never really silent -- reading as I listen to the fridge hum and my dog lick his lips, outside the squirrels are squeaking and birds singing. And I recall the shocking silence of the evening of 9/11/2001, when no planes flew overhead, no cars or train sounds broke through, and the world had gone dumb and numb with loss. The little sounds of life in this morning's silence are reassuring.
Unfortunately, silence, the kind that is an absence of noise, no longer exists for me. Exposure to loud noises in my younger years, along with age-related hearing loss, and probably some aggravation from chemotherapy, mean I now live with the constant noise of tinnitus.
It’s just another bothersome health issue, piled in with all the rest, that I have to endure.
That being said, there are work-arounds for dealing with it, just as there are for the rest of the problems and disabilities that come from living in a well-used, traumatized body.
I keep my phone on day and night to a soft white noise that I get with an app. (Hurray for technology!) When I am sitting alone, which I do often, I don’t let my mind dwell on the anxiety and frustration of never getting away from the noise in my head. I pull my thoughts away from the ringing and let them settle on the white noise. I use my other senses to distract myself, concentrating on what I see: the colors of the autumn leaves on my trees, the gentle slope of the distant hills, the spider web tucked into the corner of my window. I let myself really feel what my hands are touching: the softness of the yarn in my hands when I knit, or the smooth pages of the book I’m reading.
And when the tension tries to take over all my other efforts, I breathe, slowly and deeply. The exercise in today’s prompt is what I do every day, taking time to relish a few moments of blissful peace despite the never-ending cacophony in my head.
I love that you share perspective on technology and how it has actually helped you embrace your new version of silence. We are so quick to blame technology (myself included) for ruining "simple" things like silence, when in fact for some it provides access to it. Silence...not so simple after all.
Perfectly said. ❤️
I know from a minor in audiology how hard this hearing disease can be. You are a warrior to be compensating so gracefully and so well. I salute your courage and commitment to letting go.
Thank you for your encouragement! I think the word "commitment" is key, what we all must have as we strive to keep going in the face of devastating problems.
Thank you for sharing this with us, Teri. ❤️
I also have tinnitus from rock concerts in my youth and medications. I recently went to an audiologist in hope of treating it and was offered a hearing aid solution for $6000! So I am grateful to read your solution. ❤️❤️❤️
Those rock concerts were sure fun, weren’t they? But now…😖
I wish you the best in dealing with this affliction.
Silence is my favorite sound. I first experienced the power of silence in Death Valley at Zabriskie point. I was 7 or 8 and the power and weight of it I’ve never forgotten. It’s something I seek and crave. I’ve heard silence in many beautiful places in the world but I also hear it in my own environment even though I live in a big city. I live with a partner who does everything he can to drown out the silence. I don’t judge him; I know why he needs noise... but for me silence is as essential as breathing. I have a studio I work in, I’m a printmaker. I sometimes play music but I love to go in and be surrounded by my own sounds in the silence as a work. The music in silence is the most beautiful music of all.
Gorgeous. ❤️
I love that! “The music in silence is the most beautiful music of all.” I live in a very small, quiet little town. Empty nesters, there’s only my husband and I at home. Often, our home is silent - we’re off reading in different rooms, working on projects, etc. I seldom think to turn on music or the tv...I love creating in silence, with just the sounds of the natural world filtering in. It centers me, helps me focus and makes me feel safe and content.
My silence is walking miles on "my" beach at low tide (out of season), whether with a cleared mind left open to an array of thoughts, or a confused mind that will become unconfused somewhere along the miles I tread.
"whether with a cleared mind left open to an array of thoughts, or a confused mind that will become unconfused somewhere along the miles I tread" - you nailed a gorgeous visual - such truth. Thanks.
Sharon, thank you for this beautiful description! I frequently walk “my” beach along Lake Superior and you described exactly what happens as I walk!❤️
These days I awake at 4am, to enjoy and appreciate the pre-Dawn quiet. I make coffee, stand by my living room window, recite a poem, “The Presence of Trees” by Michael Glaser, then begin composing music. In the silence a feeling stirs that “chooses” the instrument, the first tone, and then through this invitation I go on a sound/silence journey. Clearly a precious time.
Years ago, in art school, a teacher introduced me to this poem:
For who in his/her own backyard
Has not seen a smiling secret
She/he can not name,
For the Bard was sober when he wrote
This world of fact we love is unsubstantial stuff
All the rest is silence
On the other side of the wall,
And the silence, ripeness,
And the ripeness, all.
Well done, Kimbra!🏮
A very precious time.
Silence, when I was a 7 year old girl was terrifying to me. The family left me alone a lot at night so I filled my home with music and dance which saved my soul. For years now I’ve been meditating. I Looove the silence. Meditation has guided me in not being reactive, to appreciate silence, to talk and listen to the wisdom of my body and t
On Stillness
Do I resist or embrace stillness?
I embrace stillness when the starlit morning calls me from sleep
The wild imaginings of being
Seem tempered
I am grateful for the nourishment stillness brings
Listen for the first birdsong
Poetry comes to me in the stillness of being
Liberation so true
And a community of the cosmos among the family of constellations
Nothing to fear gentle nomad
Nothing to prove
Keep writing and creating art
Embrace the wild cosmos
More on stillness….
As a young child, I wrote poetry and drew sketches of flora and fauna. I dried flowers between the pages of the encyclopedia Brittanica and went for walks in the woods
I was often quite shy and often was encouraged to talk more though I was steadfast in the quiet of my being.
I’ve since discovered there is sweet liberation in the stillness. Nourishing my wild mind is a gift. Stillness and solitude guide me towards my center. Whispers of poems come to me. Joy emerges. Sometimes tears yet almost always catharsis.
We are often discouraged to embrace being still yet I find that there is a sacredness, indeed a holy space of connection and deep mystery in stillness.
Thank you, Suleika, Carmen, Holly, and all the IJ wonders!
Heart Centered Awareness - Hafiz - Stillness Speaks
https://www.stillnessspeaks.com/heart-centered-awareness-hafiz-thay/
It was in those moments of boredom as a child and teenager, that I learned my lovely inner life. I daydreamed my way into a portal to create, to mourn, to long for, to love for love unrequited, and to imagine a life where there was beauty, laughter, and music always. I visit "the portal" often as an adult too.
I think of silence as a portal, too! ❤️
Silence is not a stranger- I cultivated silence long ago. Recently I had to remove myself from a situation with a neighbor-banal-as it reads. For years, I was accommodating and the responses were baiting and negative. At last came the end, and silence reigned. This is way different from the meditation of looking into my kitty's eyes or the beauty in my small world. Some silence is a door shutting that needed closure- long passed...
I was just thinking before reading these insightful posts this morning, about how people are so uncomfortable with silence. Before all the device addiction, people on public transportation, in waiting rooms, etc. would often sit with their thoughts, lost in a book, or sometimes chat. Now it’s difficult to make eye contact because everyone is scrolling, oblivious to what’s around them.
Suleika, you’ve inspired me to stop beginning my day with The NY Times online and start with meditation or a book. Of course the coffee and dog snuggles will remain a part of the morning ritual!
I'm so glad to hear this! ❤️