I’ve been thinking a lot about silence. Both being at home alone in silence and just “being” with others, to allow a sort of deepening in to the present moment, undistracted by someone else’s ideas and words. Silence welcomes a connection with myself and others in a way that may seem uncomfortable and against conventional norms, yet can be liberating. 

With myself, the opportunities for silence abound. But how many times do I succumb to streaming services on my computer, play a podcast, listen to music, or gab on the phone? Even texting and emailing, though silent, are still forms of communication and are a way of cheating on silence. Moments like these can be rich: I learn something new on a podcast, I’m enlivened by a song I just discovered, or a relationship is deepened despite distance. Perhaps even a quick text leads to a laugh. But there is a slippery slope when these moments and all other “noises” tend toward thoughtless circumstance rather than mindful decision making. To resist thoughtless noise, I’ve put a moratorium on streaming services for now. I want to reset what silence means in my home and that’s an easy yet impactful way to be more conscious and quiet. It’s led me to be more careful about the use of my phone and how I experience others in person.

I question the inclination to talk when I’m spending time with others. Why is talking an imperative? At my yoga teacher training, a silent breakfast was the daily ritual. It was a lovely way to ease into the day while not feeling lonely or separate from others. Talking about silence (funny to think about, I know) led me to learn more about other ways to use silence in a meaningful way. A friend’s sister organizes silent-ish dinner parties for her company. She curates a delicate playlist to create the mood while guests have the opportunity to eat and experience each other from a different vantage point. I’ve become so enthralled with the idea of silence around others that I created a podcast episode where I discuss just “being” with friends.

Why the societal need to always speak and fill our lives with talking and all sorts of sounds? In The Unfulfilling Desire the Fill Space, I discuss how we tend to fill space rather than relish in it; to bury ourselves in, rather than expand. Talking and listening to things that don’t currently exist in our physical space (ex. music, Netflix, someone on the phone) are perfectly lovely components of life, but they have the side effect of disconnecting us, even just a bit, from our surrounds Sometimes we want to fill that space, with anything we can find, because the vastness of it feels overwhelming at first. If we consider, instead, pausing first- a really long pause- we may learn more about ourselves and our relationships with others.

You can ease into this exploration of silence with some light music that you slowly lower until you reach a silent state. Or journal immediately after a phone call so that the thoughts in your head have an immediate resting place while your ears adjust to the lack of sound. You can dive right in with a moratorium on television or streaming services, or corral a friend to enjoy a silent tea with you or even a meal. Maybe read books together quietly and then move toward a discussion of what you learned. When you’re ready to deepen the practice, consider an eye gazing meditation, where you sit silently looking into a partner’s eyes. 

This isn’t a “Shhh!”, it’s an invitation to create space. Silence, especially in your home, may open your awareness to what’s in it, what seems out of place, and how little you need. As you pay closer attention to your possessions and your relationships through a dose of silence, a doorway toward greater simplicity and minimalism may emerge.