Power Of Silence
“Within you there is a stillness and a sanctuary to which you can retreat at anytime and be yourself.”
~Hermann Hesse
As a child, I was a mixed bag - quiet and shy on the front but for the life of me, I can't fathom how in the monthly report in the diary, one remark was a constant: CHATTERBOX!
I was not one of those jumpy and fidgety kids but my mind was never still. Not that I was aware of it back then. All I remember is that Linda Godman's word was the gospel truth and if she'd tagged every Piscean to be a dreamer, I played my part to the T.
As I grew older and entered into teenage and young adult years, outwardly I turned quiet but the noises in my head grew louder and more powerful. My head would chatter day and night, even in my sleep. Thinking, and more thinking became a pattern.
I wasn’t even aware I was thinking. I was just on autopilot. I would act and react and get triggered into a whirlpool of emotions and feelings, which would churn poems, long notes in the diary, tears, and utter confusion.
I started seeking solitude. Interacting with people seemed not only intimidating but daunting. Silence offered a welcoming solace that I wanted to return to at every given opportunity. I almost became a recluse.
I was in eighth grade when I first mentioned to my parents that I wanted to become a 'Jain Monk.' Not able to relate to my inner yearnings, they dismissed my earnestness as a teenager's whim. I could clearly see worry written large on their faces over what was going on in their ever-obedient daughter's head. Confusion and curiosity enveloped me. In a world inundated with communication, I started connecting with solitude and silence.
An open loft at the end of the staircase became my safe sanctuary. I cleared out the space and turned it into my little den. A huge aluminum trunk covered with a Jaipuri bedsheet became my table, sitting atop it was a lone table lamp, the only source of light, next to it was a marble pencil holder from Agra, then there was a rattan rack overstuffed with my school books, and lots of second-hand books/novels that I had bought from my measly pocket money, extra mattresses folded in halves and piled over one another, covered with a thick bedcover and strewn with colorful cushions served as my zen sitting-cum-sleeping area and Archies posters were pasted all over the yellow wall. There was a small chair placed in front of the trunk and no fan. Sometime later, Dad placed a table fan, or maybe not, but I remember mom often remarking that even in severe heat, I refused to leave my sanctuary. Two bedsheets clipped on a long nylon string were the ever-moving barrier between me and the outside world.
I loved my cozy corner and it's here I had my first tryst with the 'real' silence! One day, bent low over my notebook, just pondering over my thoughts, I experienced a moment of all-pervading silence. I had left my body and head and could gaze at myself immersed in my notebook. At that moment, the question arose, “If I can see and look at the ‘me’ sitting on the chair, then I must not be ‘me,’ so “Who am I?”
Of course, I never mentioned it to anyone for fear that everyone would take me to be crazy but I started on a quest. What was that silence and stillness that I glimpsed? I had to find this silence again. It was so palpable, so real. In that 'overheated in summers' and 'seething cold in winters', packed with notes, crowded with dreams, happily still loft, I started to seek the 'real' silence. But with no clue as to how to reach it, hold it, nourish it...I soon drowned in the din of the modern world with the weight of technology and luxury tied to each foot.
It's very recently, I had the good fortune of attending a Sufi - Caravan where I rediscovered that silence again. Honestly, when I was applying for this Sufi retreat I was not at all sure if I'd be able to stay silent for five days. But once there, we were kept busy with lots of active meditations which taught me how to anchor the silence and the quiet meditations gave an insight into how to feed and grow the silence. Even if the silence was minuscule, I strived hard to stay in it. The less attention I paid to the thinking mind, the softer and dimmer the thoughts became, and the more the silence and stillness grew.
Instead of resisting my thoughts, I allowed them to be. My Guru showed me that -
I have a body that feels and a brain that thinks. They are a part of me, but they are not me.
In silence, I became aware that I had the freedom and power to choose the types of thoughts I wished to entertain and empower, and the thoughts I wished to ignore and diffuse.
I especially loved the zikr meditations (Yah Azeem - the beauty of existence shines through your eyes), being my favorite of them all, and the Sufi whirlings - they made me slip with extreme ease into the void of peace, stillness, and silence - my essence. My head became lighter and clarity emerged on its own accord. Unfathomable strength revealed itself, which helped me let go of the pain of my past, forgive those who had hurt me, release pent-up emotions, and flush out all my anger. My whole being unfolded into a heart overflowing with love. I was awakened to the 'silence', I had been searching for all along. IT is now to be my anchor, my healer, my guide!
In a world full of anger, anxiety, and negativity, nature's core is silence. We all can use this silence to offset the detrimental effects of the noise around us. Connecting with nature is a great way to connect with silence. Submerge in nature, and experience silent, unconditional, utter bliss and peace from the core.
Ask if there is an area in my life where I should slow down. When we take our time and go slowly, new perceptions blossom that we can't see if we're moving fast. Step out of the rapid pace of everyday life and step into the majesty of stillness. Resist the impulse to go ahead with the first instinct and tune in to the deeper intuition. Power is born when we relax into the present moment. Move slowly in silence and love and appreciate what is here, Now!
-Shell
