Listening to the Silence
I spent last week in silence. I was at the JMMTT—Jewish Mindfulness Meditation Teacher Training—a 15-month program that began last May. It is an advanced step from the 18-month Clergy Leadership Program in mindfulness practices that I completed a year ago July.
As I posted on my Facebook page, I celebrated my birthday in silence. That was different. I also observed Election Day in silence. Our retreat guides were sensitive enough to the issues of our country to host an optional “election practice” evening in which we could choose to watch the election results coming in on PBS—the most neutral reporting they could access. In fact, the theme of the retreat was “Taking our Practice into the World.” With a world in so much pain, bringing presence and compassion forward is something that all of us can benefit from.
What is it like to sit in silence? If it is something you haven’t done, it’s hard to describe. Think about the last time you heard silence. When was that? Where were you? How long did it last?
The truth is that some of us fear silence. In it we are confronted with ourselves; easy to avoid by turning on the television, playing an Internet game, reading Facebook posts. Anywhere we turn we can find a way to fill the silence or fill the space so we don’t have to pay attention to the inner sounds – the sounds of hurt. The sounds of disappointment or anger. The sounds and feelings of a broken heart, a broken city, country and world. When we stop to listen, we may be deafened by the amount of noise—mental, emotional and/or physical—that we generate.
And yet silence is also an opportunity. In it we can ask ourselves: what voice is calling to me, asking for attention? If we sit long enough, we might hear our inner voices not just of dissent, but of calm. We can discover the peace that awaits in our soul. If you’ve never experienced this, it might seem bizarre or a long shot. As one who has dealt with extensive fear and over busyness in life, I can say that this calm and wholeness is available, even if you think it might not be. So many have shared with me how sitting in silence has helped them with anxiety or the high stress of life.
In the silence we can affirm what matters to us: kindness, love, grace, compassion – experiences we’d like to give to ourselves, feel from others and bring into the world. We can breathe these words into us with our inbreath and affirm them as we exhale. A new kind of calm and availability evolves from this practice. It will enable you to be more present with yourself and your experience. From this comes a natural flow to extend this to others, seeing them not only with more clarity, but with more generosity and more lovingkindness.
We are at a time in our world where there is such a need for more compassion and softness. A time when we need to look beyond our first impressions of others and see the heart and vulnerability within. The hearts of others are much like ours—needing kindness, love, connection, acceptance and warmth.
So I invite you to sit. Turn off the television. Turn the ringer off on your phone. Perhaps even turn off the Wi-Fi for less disturbance. Find a timer—on your clock, from the kitchen, or download a meditation app for your phone (I love Insight Timer). Set it for 5 minutes. Pick a simple chair and sit with your back upright, so you aren’t leaning on the chair back for support. Place your feet on the floor and feel the ground supporting you. Relax your hands in your lap. Take the rest of the five minutes to breathe, simply focusing your attention on how the breath feels going in and out of your body. If you become distracted – or when you become distracted – because we all will, simply return your attention to your breathing. At the end of the time, acknowledge yourself for taking a few minutes for quiet and centering. If you make this a practice, it will add a component of peace and grace to your life, affecting you and those you touch for good. Should you give this a try, I would love to hear your responses.
Rabbi Robin Damsky