Tuesday, February 25, 2020
Silence. So very rare in today’s world. So much racket. So much chitter-chatter. So much ambient babble. So used to all of the background noise that we don’t hear it anymore. Our definition of silence obscured by all the commotion. True silence all the more terrifying. So unusual that we’ve become allergic to it. A deep panic sets in when we come face to face with it. Our minds not knowing what to do with the quietness. Our brains unable to speak the language of its nothingness. Tirelessly trying to avoid it by listening to the radio when driving and keeping the television on when not watching. Silence has simply become unbearable. One of the things that I love about winter is its silent stillness. Nature’s dormant season, not as lively as the rest of the year, so very tranquil. Something about the blanket of snow muffling the surrounding sounds. It’s one my favorite things about a cold winter day out in nature. It has a way of making the silence more inviting. Its peacefulness uncovered. Like an empty canvas or a blank sheet of paper, silence is the foundation on which life is created. Silence is what we’re born from and what we’ll eventually return to. Maybe the purpose of life is to become comfortable with the silence? Maybe the purpose of life is to learn how to be alone in it without feeling lonely? Silence is divine. Silence is fertile. Silence is patient. Silence is sincere. Silence is the food that our soul feeds on. Only after we have emptied ourselves into the silence can we begin to understand. Stop losing yourself in the noise. Come home. Silence.