We begin and end our day in a fast paced, noisy subsistence.
It has been like this for a while, and every generations throughout history forgets a little more. Forgets a little more what life was like. Forgets what life was like before we sacrificed our lives and happiness to the gods and goddesses of technology and progress.
Progress and science abhor silence.
It gets in the way. It wastes time. It proves nothing. Does nothing. Is nothing.
For precisely this reason, we need to remember the last time we were silent?
I mean, completely silent? No television in the background. No radio. No music, streaming through anything. No internet. No pings. No chats. No distractions of any kind. No running fans, static, hum of the fridge, or white noise. Just you and your thoughts.
I don’t believe I have ever been completely silent. There is always something on. There is always something humming or squeaking. I am afraid of total silence. For some reason, I think experiencing such immense nothingness might just blow my eardrums into oblivion.
In the meantime, I am happy with experiencing a flawed silence, but a silence nonetheless.
I don’t blame anyone and I don’t even blame myself. It is just one of those things you just get into at some point in your life. Like a hamster running around his wheel, you start living, chasing things, and find yourself working hard, and getting nowhere. You just sort of start running, and next thing you know, it has been years before you even contemplated a reason to stop.
Funny things happen when you finally get back to silence.
Thoughts of all kinds crash your consciousness like the waves of the sea. They come relentless and uninvited. Over and over. Steady and sure. Memories. To do lists. Promises. Regrets. Even complete and unabridged conversations.
With a little frequency of silence, it is amazing what our minds can tune into.
I haven’t been silent like this since my teenage years and my early adulthood. It has been a very long time. Today, however, I find myself drawn back into the majesty of silence and I embrace it.
The human mind has been serving and entertaining our human ancestors for thousands of years. I might even venture to say that the programming our silent mind offers is a touch more refined than anything else we could tune into with our gadgets.
Ever wonder if our thoughts are an elaborate and a beautiful universal delivery system? I have often wondered if our thoughts somehow bridge the gap between where we are and where we are going.
I find it strange that we dream.
I also find it curious that God has shown to speak with people through their dreams. I am beginning to get a little bit suspicious that perhaps we are all connected. Not in a poetic sense. What I mean is, what if we are all really connected? Not just the living, but the dead also, and why not the unborn? What if our minds are the ultimate communication widgets?
When I was a young boy, my grandmother taught me that my guardian angel will always look after me. Poor bastard. He has spent many sleepless nights saving my sorry ass.
I have never seen him and for all I know he might be a woman. And why not? That would certainly explain a lot of things.
I should be honest and tell you that I’m not even sure I believe I have a guardian angel, but I love my grandmother, and so I am disarmed to argue against her better wisdom.
She told me that if I ever find myself walking somewhere, anywhere, and I hear a friendly voice calling my name, I will naturally stop and turn around to look. I have heard my name called many times and every single time, by instinct, I turn around and look. I am yet to find a friendly face staring back at me.
My grandmother told me that when we hear our name being called, it is actually the voice of our guardian angel. They are calling us because we are on a collision course with something and they need us to stop for just the tiniest of moments. They give us pause in order for our life to unfold in a different direction.
I have no tangible proof of this, but having a guardian angel would be pretty cool.
What if we are not abandoned at our birth by our creator? What if we are not meant to make our way throughout this world, blind and wanting? What if we are never alone? What if God talks to us while we asleep. Every night. Maybe that is why we never remember.
What if those who have died send their thoughts to us, consciously and unconsciously? What if this whole damn thing is interconnected? What if they do? What if we need to be silent to hear them?
I have not sucked on the happy pill this morning. These are just fantastical musing about the grandeur and majesty of everything that surrounds us.
The more I slow down. The more things I give up. The more I am silent. The more I seem to hear. The more I am alive.
When I was heading to bed last night, I was overwhelmed with unexplained joy. I haven’t experienced this in a very long time, if ever. There was no reason for it. There was nothing special about Sunday. Yes, it was Mothers Day, but that can’t be it. It was an ordinary day and I was just so grateful for everything I’ve lived and know. I was grateful for my life. I was happy to be fully human, fully alive.
When I woke up this morning, I was shaken by fear and doubt. I woke up to disturbing thoughts and feelings of uncertainty. For a moment I imagined that what I am doing is a just waste of time. Nothing but utter nonsense.
Such an experience of such extremes.
It is time to be silent. I think I’m on to something.
It’s time to get quiet and listen more intently.