Silence and the Quest for Rootedness
Begin to find your rest and creativity alive and anew in silence.
By Douglas Daugherty
“All men’s miseries derive from not being able to sit in a quiet room alone.” —Blaise Pascal
You can’t work or fight the many types of wars we’re in unless you find rest on a regular basis. And the wars are growing larger, more diverse, and begging for our attention. It seems desolation is on the move. We can’t stop. A smart, steady offense is required against these local and global threats. Life for most people is full of endless information, diversions, and responsibilities.
The average American consumes about 34 gigabytes of data and information each day — an increase of about 350% over nearly three decades — according to a report published by researchers at the University of California, San Diego.
Efficiency experts’ data indicate that we spend 372 minutes, or 6.2 hours every day, or 31 hours a week with diversions.
Responsibilities may cause huge stress. One researcher, Dr. Elizabeth Brondolo, found that “stress not only affects a person’s mental health. It also takes a physical toll on the body. Inflammatory hormones are released when a person is stressed. This increases cardiovascular and cancer risk, among other issues.” As a result, Brondolo points out, stress results in “accidents, absenteeism, employee turnover, diminished productivity, and direct medical, legal, and insurance” that cost the United States $300 billion every year.
Next week is Christmas, a time that should be both merry and a time for reflection, so I wanted to settle down and share a bit about one less-practiced “medicine” for the rushed life we find ourselves in at the end of 2021.
Silence is when you deliberately find time in solitude, quiet your mind and emotions, stop your activity, breathe deeply, and begin to listen for that still, small voice of love and acceptance. You are known. You just may not know it. Pablo Picasso said, “Without great solitude no serious work is possible.”
Times of silence are known throughout the world. In its most formal nature, we refer to it as mysticism, but don’t let that word scare you. There is a truth to be learned here. There are Christian mystics (both Protestant, Catholic and Orthodox), Jewish mystics, Muslim mystics, Buddhist mystics, and Hindu mystics.
The exercise of silence is best known from what are called the Desert Fathers. The Desert Fathers were early Christian hermits and ascetics who lived mainly in the desert of Egypt beginning around the 3rd century AD. The most well-known was Anthony the Great, who moved to the desert in AD 270–271 and became known as both the father and founder of desert monasticism.
An ancient name for early times of silence and song in the night is “Matins,” from the Latin meaning “morning prayers.” Some local Anglican churches still affirm this practice.
This practice today can be known as “mindfulness” or “centering prayer” or just being alone and quieting down while you concentrate on less, not more. Many refer to this as their “quiet time,” but what I’m focusing on is not the time for study, reading, journaling, or intercession for others. (Unless one feels strongly moved.) It is all about communion. It is all about listening. It is focusing on what you value the most and also what or Who in turn values you the most. It is not a meditation or development of your “to-do list” or a planning session. That will rush on you afterwards in marvelous short order. It really will. Try it and see.
To not be confused, silence is not “aloneness.” That is a horrible feeling. You will come to know in times of quietude that you are never really alone. It is not sleeping. We need sleep. We have to sleep. But you are not conscious when you sleep. Sleep is not a time of quiet reflection … which is where we are heading in this short essay of about 1,000 words.
It is best done early when all is quiet. A grace in my own life is the early hour I arise each morning, when I make a cup of coffee, light a kerosene lamp, sit in a comfortable chair in a still house, and just begin as I feel led. It is the best time of my day. It is a mosaic of silent colors and breaths of texture. It is at its heart the will to live truly. It is an illuminated darkness. There are graceful places in silence that are nourishment for the mind and soul.
(I practiced Transcendental Meditation for about three years in my college days, until unexplainable strange things began to happen to my “feel for life,” then I discovered the carefully hidden religious/spiritual threads in the TM life and ended it. Worshiping a Hindu deity with a mantra was not my idea of where I wanted to be.)
To be transparent, there are other times, less domestic, that create the same effects: a starry night when city lights are dim, sitting by a mountain gurgling stream, sitting in the crinkly sand on the beach at dawn or at dusk (the 30 minutes before sunrise and the 30 minutes after sunset), early winter mornings when the mist hugs Lake Chickamauga, a gentle breeze that kisses your face, or even the wonderful moment you fold your newborn into your arms. (But to be honest, the discipline of silence can be woven into your entire day.)
Dr. Francis Collins, MD, PhD, the former Director of the Human Genome Project, found these times in the deepest places of science: the mapping of the 3.1 billion variations in DNA, the incredible balance of the laws of gravity that keep our universe in order, quantum physics, and other studies. All these are a tall order for the most learned and insightful scientist, but after much reflection on these wonders, he was led to conclude, “There is no conflict in discovering the harmony of science and faith.”
But what are you wrestling with? William James, as I remember in his book Varieties of Religious Experience (1902), wrote that the greatest creativity poured forth from people who were wrestling with a difficulty and then “slept on it,” after which the solution came like a perfect shower.
Silence is the best way to start (and/or finish) your day. It becomes the foundation for your vocation and interpersonal relationships, your peace in the midst of storms, your confidence on a difficult path.
As we experience the closeness of the Closeness of Christmas, think on these things. Begin to find your rest and creativity alive and anew in silence. No matter what age you are, it works. I am a witness.