The Art of Silence

Some people from my school spent a few days this weekend in a Silent Retreat. They were to abstain from any form of communication between participants. The idea was to force them to be quiet; to enter into dialogue within their own heads; to spend time with God. I think the majority of the people found it to be benefical. Silence works. As soon as you stop numbing the brain, you have to come to terms with what your head is thinking. It's in this place that you'll find God whispering to you.

I spent a summer in silence, essentially. I worked nights, alone. I eventually spent as much time as I was able simply trying to fill the silence. Playing loud music, watching movie after movie, talking to anyone that would listen. Listening to anyone that would talk. It drove me insane. I'm not used to that time of silence.

And now I miss it.

I live in a setting where I can't get away from the noise. In a movie-filled, music-abounding society, the incessent drivel from person to person overwhlems me. I can't get away from it. This is why I don't like cell phones. With a cell phone, you are ALWAYS on call. You can't get away. There's a TV on in every room. There's always music in the background.

I like silence.

And I sound like my father for saying it, but I like silence. I've begun to put the adolescent passion for noise behind me. I need my quiet time, but I don't need naps. Not yet.