Listening to Your Own Silence

Sometimes the most recognizable form of disruption that we, as humans, register is noise. That noise comes in the form of yelling, stomping, slamming, bar graphs, lists, obligations, financial problems, schedules, friendly banter, unnecessary banter, 24-hour news cycles, and unexpected rocky bumps in the road. The list is as long as the dictionary. I can ask you to sit down and write out every form of internal dialog that you had with yourself since you woke up this morning and I bet that you would just be able to graze the surface.

Let’s face it, we live in a world of excess internal noise that we fail to even recognize as a problem as we go about our daily lives. We start the day off in a noisy way by wishing that our morning alarm wasn’t so loud, early, and annoying. Instead of responding to how refreshed, clear, and thankful we feel, we choose to start the majority of days with a simple complaint.

I am not going to sit here and type out one of those articles that tells you to say “You’re beautiful,” or “What a wonderful day” to yourself in the mirror every morning. Yes, while positive affirmations are beneficial on positive outlook and esteem, I am going to spend this article on a methods that I find very useful in lessening the disruption, or noise, in everyday life. You can have the best outlook in the world, but still suffer from the cyclical reiteration of internal dialogue that plagues us all in the information era.

Silencing the mind can be a difficult task to even begin to think about. How will we walk about our lives, getting the things done that require our attention, without noise? However, I will assure you that being able to listen to your own silence can break down any block that comes up in our daily lives.

I read a book years ago called Meditation in a New York Minute by Mark Thornton. It was just one of those “I feel really Zen now, so I’m going to get this book,” moments back when Borders stores still existed. I’ll admit that I didn’t read the entire book, but the words that I read, well over 10 years ago, stuck in my head and laid a groundwork for meditation, or mind decluttering, for my life today.

In the book, Thornton asks you to visualize a special place away from work, home, friends, and family that you could claim as your space. What does it look like? Where is it? What are the natural surroundings? Is there water flowing in the background? Just wind? Is there an enclosure, hut, or shelter of any kind? After you have it visualized, start to recognize how your space makes you feel. The final step is to claim the space as your own, and make a promise to yourself that you will return there whenever, and however often, you need.

This space, of your own, is an excellent place to go to in order to start calming the noise ridden mind. You can go there, simply, in a flash by just closing your eyes and visualizing for one second. Spend as little, or much, time there as you need or can. It’s a start, right? It’s a great place to pass go to and leave. But is there a space that we can do more than just dip our toes in? Is there a way to stay in a space of calm and quiet while in our waking state of constant problem solving?

We have all counted breaths, sheep, you name it in order to help calm the mind. The problem, I believe, with those practices is that they are temporal. By achieving a state of calm in this instance, you will be able to be in a better state throughout some part of the day. It’s true. But are we neglecting to recognize a greater problem of increased stimuli in our environments throughout the day? Let’s get a bit deeper than surface level. Let’s go beyond the floor in shavassana at the end of yoga.

Remember the five basic senses we all learned about in early schooling? Name them with me: sight, smell, taste, hearing, and touch. Now, I am going to go on talking as if we all have control over these five senses, recognizing that we all, in actuality, have different levels and variants of them. In fact, the overarching message to achieve from this sense recognition all comes down to one singular through line.

Take out a pen and paper and write down a few things for me. Remember that special place that you went to with your family, or friends, when you were younger? Or maybe I’m talking about that special place that you ran to, by yourself, when you wanted some free air to think. That place. Remember what it looked like the moment that you got there? Not the journey, or the struggle, to get there, but the exact moment that you arrived. Remember how that felt, the sights and visuals of arriving at this special place where you could be free. Stay there for a moment, and write down any words that pop up, or come to mind, that you feel you need to write down.

Now, take a moment and bring yourself to your favorite activity to do outside on a spring day. You may not have done it for a while, but when you did it brought much sustenance to your life. Remember the smells in the air? The pleasant smells of, perhaps, honeysuckle and lavender? Or maybe it is the peaty smell of the earth between your fingers? Or, maybe, the musky smell of moss and bark on a tree? Or it could be your favorite bakery or outdoor café. A charcoal grill at a family and friends barbeque? Needless, find your favorite activity and remember your smells. When is the last time you smelled that? Can you smell it now? Recognize how that smell changed how you felt about the day. Ponder for a bit, and write down anything that you need to.

A sense that is closely related to smell, let’s move on to taste. We can branch into two directions here, and I will touch on both. Remember that dish from the restaurant that you went to that one time? Or maybe it was something that your mother made, or that your friend brought over? Maybe it’s the bread in your favorite bakery, or a fresh apple picked from the orchard on a crisp autumn day. Remember that first bite? That taste you got that warmed your soul with possibility. We’re going to shift now to how the air around the restaurant, bakery, or orchard, wherever you may be. What did that air taste like? It’s okay to pause here to really think. Not many people stop long enough to taste the air. After the first bite, what was your outlook of your place? What did you feel inside, in that space in your gut? Pause for a moment, as long as you’d like.

Now, when was the last time that you listened to the sound of the city streets on a winter’s evening while taking a walk? Sounds of birds chirping in a bush as you walk by? The sound of running water in the far off distance? We spend so much time listening, and answering to, the contradicting problematic voices in our heads that we rarely escape that to land our ears in reality. I challenge you to listen to the world around you the next time you find yourself outside. There are so many healing sounds in nature, and urban forest, landscapes. Walk outside, take a deep breath in and out, and listen for those sounds that you used to love as a kid.

The last sense we need to reopen is another one that we selectively pay attention to during the day. We touch so many things during the day that we possibly can’t remember what everything felt like, other than the soft comfort of the blanket at night. Go outside now and stick your hands into some dirt or snow. Feel the texture, the temperature, the viscosity. How do these factors, in turn, make you feel? Take a short walk to a bush down the street, or in your own yard, and run your fingers through the branches. If there is no bush around, go to a tree and jump up to a branch to pull down a leaf. How does that feel in your hands? Do these textural traits trigger your memory in any which direction?

After you’ve completed these sense exercises, go back to the place where I told you to feel. How do you feel after reconnecting to your senses? Whether a sense is just a memory, or a result of an action in reality, they all trigger feelings that we associated with the phenomena at some point in our lives. Focus in on one sense, or one exercise that we went through, and concentrate on the result, the feeling, and how your body, or soul, reacted to the action. Try to slowly release the action, and just feel the result in yourself.

Stay here. This is your silence. This is your body talking to you. Stay here for as long as you want. Know that you can return here, or any of the other spaces you opened, at any time throughout the day. Recognize the sensorial feelings that you experience throughout the day. Smile if they make you feel good, or just relax into it.