Of Solitude and Silence
Returning to something that's missing in our modern world.
Photo by Benyamin Bohlouli on Unsplash
Blocked
It wasn't the typical writer's block.
My 'terrible' version technique almost always works for eliminating blank pages.
Words were coming, inspired ideas were not.
My heart echoed like a spent jar of honey.
Noise
There is so much noise and demand for our attention in the world.
The issue of our time isn't so much finding opportunities to express ourselves; it is finding moments of silence and solitude where our hearts can discern something to say.
As Gilles Deleuze mused, “What a relief to have nothing to say, the right to say nothing, because only then can you frame...the thing worth saying.”
Stepping Back
Turned everything off for a day. After enjoying some espresso went for a run and a walk in the afternoon.
No agenda, conversation, or plan.
The only formal activity was making handwritten notes of ideas that came to me on the walk and run.
There is something about writing or drawing that unlocks our brains.
Flowing Like Honey
Sometimes I sweeten my espresso or tea with raw honey. When the honey jar (or, in my case, the bear)1 is full, the honey flows smooth and golden.
After only a day of embracing silence and solitude, the flow of ideas mimicked the honey from a jar filled to the rim.
🌀Reflection:
🌱How much time do you spend in silence?
🌱How about being alone?
🌱How might you incorporate more silence and solitude to frame the thing worth saying?
1) a lot
2) a lot
3) I would need to live like lieutenant John Dunbar.
😅
My daughter and I just watched Dances with Wolves last night, and at one point we both looked at each other and said "how amazing would it be to be able to live alone like that with nothing to see or hear for miles in any direction."
So today I am listening to that fantastic score by John Barry in otherwise silence focusing on deep work.
I belong to a group, Retreat on 2 Feet. From Friday evening until yesterday afternoon we were at Holy Wisdom Monastery practicing forms of contempletive walking, slow thoughtful strolling. Sometimes alone, sometimes exchanging our stories with another: one would talk, the other listen, as we were strolling side by side. Time spent mattered, not distance covered.
We would then debrief the experience in community. Three of us pondered the melting snow, the rivulets of running water, and the waters effect when it encountered unmelted snow. Two of us actually took videos of the 'action'.
The space and peace this time apart created was exceptional.