Embracing the silence

Over the course of the summer, I intentionally took time to pause, take a break from blogging. It wasn't as much a "if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all" type of a situation, but more of a need for contemplation, for stillness, to reconnect with myself, focus, find direction.

You can choose for life to be busy, chaotic, overscheduled, overworked, and many of us thrive in those type of situations, but what I am finding more and more is the desire or need for "pause." A time for quite contemplation, collection of thought and perhaps plotting your next wild and wonderful adventure.

Being quiet isn't always easy. Each day we are bombarded with messages trying to convince us to buy or do one thing or another. It is easy to get caught up in the mode of reacting to the messages we see, buying into their advice, opinion or smarmy sales pitch. The challenge here again is not to react, call now, order today, but to be able respond thoughtfully. Will I use another pieces of exercise equipment, or will this new piece only join the mounting pile that I currently have and don't use? Does the product really do what they say? Do I even really WANT that?

As children, many of us were afraid of what lurked in the darkness of closets or recesses under the bed. As adults, do we still have that same fear, only a fear of silence? What scary thing lurks in the silence in your mind? Are you afraid of the....silence? Maybe like the monsters under your bed, there really isn't anything scary at all.

Working very hard to avoid silence, we talk about the weather, listen to music, spend hours in front of the TV, and surf the web. We bombard ourselves with noise, distraction, worry about things that will never happen. So, what if we could just turn that all off. I am not suggesting something radical like taking a vow of silence, joining an ashram, becoming a recluse. Maybe it is just 5 minutes, perhaps one conversation where you allow there to be pauses in conversation, or even just leaving the radio off in the car on the way home from work.

How do we quiet our minds from all of the "I need's (which are probably just "I want's")," "I should's" and the regrefull "I didn't's?" More importantly WHY?

It is in silence that our heart truly speaks to us.

As I contemplated a visual to accompany this post, I came across an image of a spider web coated with early morning dew in the glow of the rising sun. It occurs to me that the spider, works thoughtfully and silently in its task in creating a web. He doesn't need to consult his "spiderbook" friends for location, web building techniques, spend time complaining that the brush of a hand destroyed hours of work. The spider pushes forward, creating its own vision for its web, not worrying about when that next brush will unravel its work. An in the event of disaster, it rebuilds, again and again. The web is the accomplishment of the spider alone, its vision, its effort. I hope the spider has friends that appreciate the beauty if its work, but if not, that's OK too.

One of the joys that I have discovered over the course of the summer is volunteering. I spend four hours each week in the NICU of a local hospital. My job: rocking premie babies. Having had my own H.O.P.E. (Hands On Premie Experience) it was a very natural fit for me. I also fulfilled something else, the need for silence.

Upon entering the NICU, you are required to scrub your hands/arms for two minutes. Now if you have never tried that, set a timer and see how it goes. That is a lot of scrubbing action, a lot of time to think. The NICU is a pretty quiet place typically. Quiet, with the exception of an alarm or the hum of a ventilator, perhaps the occasional cry of a baby. Yet, in all of this quiet, I have found some spectacularly meaningful interactions.

As a rocker, baby rocker that is, I have one job, to be present. I am not allowed to pick up, put down, feed, change, or deliver medicine to a baby. My job, is to sit in the rocking chair and hold the baby the nurse hands to me, nothing more. In the silent stillness and rocking motion, I am touched deeply by these children, and the silence and reflection they provide allow me to more clearly navigate my day.

My challenge to you: find 5 minutes of silence for yourself. In the car, in the tub, in the bathroom washing your hands. If nothing else, it will make people wonder what you are up to.