Musings #1

Does Silence Speak Louder Than Words?

According to an old Zen saying, human beings are responsible for ‘looking the sky into blueness.’ This statement speaks volumes about the power of attentiveness. What lives in awareness is determined by an active quality of attention, or mindfulness. Beauty, in this sense, is cultivated not merely consumed.

I believe humans are also responsible for ‘listening the world into wholeness.’ We help individuals come alive not so much by what we say but how we listen. Deeply listening can further understanding, foster connection, and mend divisiveness. We extend respect to another by deeply hearing the heart and soul of that person. We also renew our connection to the natural world through a reverent or curious ear. Mindful listening, whether focusing on either verbal or non-verbal sources, influences the garden of our awareness and determines what bears fruit.

Despite the numerous occasions when we have been lifted by inspirational messages or deepened by instinctual perceptions, many of us stringently avoid the inaudible. The voiceless or soundless realm takes a back seat to the chatty ego at the wheel. The absence of silence is especially evident in our interpersonal exchanges where, regardless of the common claim that we all want closeness in our human relationships, we stubbornly resist a quality of intimacy that only comes through quietness.

Non-stop talk, especially when it is excessive babble or repetitious thought, keeps our hearts staunchly guarded and prevents us from letting people in too close. Instead of accommodating silence and venturing into unfamiliar territory, we often settle for non-threatening chit chat. It takes a bit of risk and a deliberate breaking of the habitual to not barge into the moment with a monotonous stream of familiar talk. Yet, by deliberately sitting with silence, we make inclusive room for the surprises of a transpersonal wisdom, an understanding that goes beyond our own small, reservoir of perception.

When I meet a client for the first time, I usually request that our session include at least a few moments of silence. It might be before we make sound, before we enact a ritual, or simply at the end of an improvisation. Since this custom is rarely observed among modern people there is usually an initial awkwardness. Silence, though deemed to be golden, is rarely treasured in conversational exchanges. In fact, a prolonged pause is conceived to be a lull in the action. Silence, consequently, tends to be either reserved for a seasoned friendship, at a stage when people feel at ease with the unspoken, or as a cue that no friendship even exists.

There are wonderful gifts in being silent, as a predecessor to speech. Holding space quietly will accelerate the quality of what we say and consolidate the quantity of what we say. When a speaker is spinning his wheels, talking but going nowhere, it is usually symptomatic of the fact that he doesn’t feel understood by a listener. The speaker hopes that, by laying on another serving of words, an important point will finally land on receptive ground. We would do well to remember, as new lovers demonstrate by their silent gazes followed by tender words, a well-timed pause can have a remarkable effect on the depth of what is said as well as the amount of words used to communicate.

Another reason for holding a silent moment prior to speaking is to ensure that we are actually present as a communicator. Sometimes our exchanges remain superficial because big portions of our attention are off ruminating about past incidents, speculating about future events, or lazily drifting in a nebulous zone. Silence can snap us out of our distracted state in order to ground us in the moment and root us in the body.

Finally, as monks and mystics have verified, the act of being silent is a form of being humble, a bowing of the head before an intelligence greater than our own. A transpersonal dimension of wisdom awaits us all and we can “download” this spiritually rich content anytime, for both our personal understanding and greater service. The only catch is that arrogance has to go. If we maintain a know-it-all attitude in our head, the capacity for inspiration is all booked up. There is no room in the inn for the miraculous.

More often than not, wisdom comes gracefully descending into our being on angel wings. To hear those nuances, we must be still, mindful, and, above all, quiet.

1

Gary Diggins copyright 2009