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[thisunfoldinglife]

Silence on the Brink of Extinction

“Seek out a tree, and let it teach you stillness” –Eckhart Tolle

I recently heard a poignant statement that “silence is an endangered species”. This declaration from Gordan Hempton, an acoustic ecologist, enthralled me. The idea that silence could be endangered was an entirely new perspective on modern life. And though this terminal prognosis may be questionable, it’s quite evident that the noise of our human population is only growing worse and has thoroughly overrun nature in favour of progress. In fact, the deliberate and intentional experience of silence is virtually absent and definitely antiquated in the vast majority of societal living. There is no doubt that we humans fill our lives with sound. We are continually plugged in to phones, tvs, radios, music, arguments, advertisements, and information. We are inundated. And though I’m fortunate to live near some wonderful natural places to escape the discordant racket of civilization, many are not as lucky, as the earth’s last wild and serene soundscapes are becoming fewer and fewer.

So, off to the woods I went. It’s amazing what you can hear in the natural world when you take the time to stop…and just listen. Several types of birds twittered around me in sporadic harmony. The river gushed and whooshed, leaves rustled above. How effortlessly nature can stun us into stillness— the rhythm and music of it, a quiet lullaby of sorts. A dog’s bark, the light whirl of wind. My own steady breath. And beyond all these things, the vast and beautiful chasm of silence—the peace of a mind temporarily without thought.

In my twenties I studied meditation at a Buddhist centre in Colorado. My week there is now a blurry memory of sitting painfully still for uncomfortable hours on end whilst beating myself up for the inability to train my wandering mind. I later learned that the goal isn’t to stop thoughts entirely. This is impossible. Instead, it is to create more space between thoughts, to allow thoughts to pass, and in the pausing, to sink into our own inner peace, a peace that thrives and pulsates in the present moment. Contrary to sitting meditation, some have found this peace and presence unwittingly whilst in a state of motion. Activities such as running, mountain biking, or sky diving, for example, can unconsciously plunk us into the present moment, as they call for a clear head and steady attention. And the pleasure we derive from these acts is not only physical, but is also psychological, and through escaping the mind, can be truly transformational.

Silence is certainly endangered. Most humans fear it. And like any other entity that is strange and threatening, we try to kill it rather than understand it. I am the first to admit that silence has often unnerved me. The practiced ease in which I can fill a lull in conversation has been born out of my own wrangled value that silence is to be eradicated and avoided. Yet I’m hoping to correct that. I’m striving to change my thoughts on the matter, and in fact, to pause my thinking as often as possible. As it turns out, our ever-turning mind and its propensity for relentless thought is the root of many forms of anxiety. This is because our minds are very seldom dealing with what is directly in front of us. Instead, we are often mired in the past or looking towards the future, one reality having already passed, and the other not yet even conceived.  We are often grasping at intangible and illusory states of being. It’s no wonder that our minds spin round and round these uncontrollable events without a safe resting place. How much of my life have I spent wasting time and energy on a past I can’t change and a future I can’t control? And now I could waste more time worrying about that time wasted, or instead, I can sit here in the present moment, with my warm cup of tea, and these words as I type each…one…out…individually, and I can listen to the hum of the dishwasher and my giggling children upstairs and know that in this precise moment, this singular second in time, I am alive and I am content.

It's taken me decades to cultivate this awareness, that admittedly graces me less frequently than I’d prefer. Perhaps if I was raised in India or Thailand, the tools to cultivate inner quietude would be laid out before me as simply as my children’s bedtime routine. And, as I find value in my children’s growth and well-being enough to teach them how to brush their teeth, solve math problems, and resolve arguments, shouldn’t I also be equipping them with some tools for alleviating anxiety, for making space for peace and presence?

So off to the woods we went. And for a minute, I asked them to be quiet and listen to the sounds around them, to pause their chatter and truly listen. Eliana closed her eyes real tight and cocked her face to the sky and Elijah laughed. Even at their impressionable ages, embracing silence is a strange and new experience. It’ll take practice, but with time, perhaps they will come to seek that silence on their own, and instead of fearing it, they will trust it, knowing that it has the power to illuminate clearer pathways through their own minds.