The gift of silence

What a typically introvert thing to write about: the gift of silence. Now you would probably think that as an introvert, I would be naturally comfortable with silence. No. Introverts can find silence uncomfortable too. Silence can be awkward. We want something to be happening and if nothing is happening, then by golly make something happen.

A couple of years ago a pastor taught me about the gift of silence within a community setting. It is hard enough practicing quiet on your own, but with a group of people, well that just ups the awkward. I don’t know if it was intentional or not, or simply obedience on his part. He would wait for the Spirit’s utterance. There were many times when he would wait. So we would wait as he waited. Everyone waiting. At first it was confusing and somewhat unsettling, almost countercultural.

We were learning to make peace with the quiet.

Now I’ve heard that Isaac Newton “discovered” the law of gravity when an apple hit him on the head as he sat under an apple tree. He was sitting in solitude underneath a tree when he had his great epiphany.

We have this peculiar tendency to want to fill every inch of space with noise.

Probably because we have discovered that quiet can be dangerous. I saw a clip of Louis CK explaining this particular idea of aloneness. We don’t want to be alone with our thoughts and sense our feelings. The unpleasantness sets in and we don’t like it. Not one bit. So we attempt to silence the voices with something, anything… to just make it go away.

The stillness scares us.

We fear the monster lurking beneath the surface. And if there really is a creature of the deep, then we create waves and splashes to avoid making eye contact with the beast we fear could be swimming just below. The monster scares me too. I don’t want to look it in the face. So I keep on splashing with the rest. If we can’t see it, maybe we can convince ourselves that it’s not there. So keep on splashing. Keep disrupting the silence. Keep music playing, the television going, texting, activities. Keep busy, busy, busy…

 Silence can be a gift when you learn to surrender to it.

In our attempt to avoid what we fear could be lurking underneath, the monsters, the scary emotions and the darkness, we miss the light. You cannot experience dawn without night. They say that it is usually darkest before the dawn. Those  feelings and thoughts that arise when you give space for them can seem quite terrible. There is a temptation to turn up the volume. But it is just on the other side, as the sun peeps over the horizon, you witness the light and participate in genuine happiness. You see the beauty you couldn’t see before. It is as if your eyes see for the very first time what was always there. And all because you allowed space for the silence.