The first minute of our existence is validated by crying. We are born making noise, and for that minute the noise we make is celebrated as a sign of life.
The noise doesn’t stop at the maternity ward. We realize that we were brought into a noisy world. And as the outside world grows louder, the inside one grows softer.
I find myself surrounded by loud people. I am a loud person myself. And despite my self-proclaimed introversion, which people refuse to accept, I do acknowledge that I can be loud. I have a loud mind and there’s no shame in that. What most people don’t know, however, is that I have a quiet heart.
Hence, I’m very familiar with Silence. Silence is where I go to listen. I listen to my heart, my mind and I create. Silence is my ultimate expression of freedom: where I do not feel the obligation to verbalize my thoughts or feelings; where I can simply be.
Silence is not the absence of sound. I have learnt to access Silence even in the midst of a rock band concert. If I were to illustrate what I mean, I’d say Silence is like a Zebra: it’s the point where you focus on the blackness of it despite its white stripes. It’s the rest between a song’s notes. It’s the musician’s ability to play the silence, rather than playing the keys. It’s the artist’s ability to recognize the space surrounding the outline of a sketch.
It’s the 93% that constitutes non-verbal communication and yet… we measure our lives in words. We judge our fellow human beings by their eloquence. We judge a fellow’s intelligence by how long he can sustain his speech for. We judge a fellow’s sociability based on how talkative one is.
We create and sustain relationships based on what we say and how we sound. We refine our accents and try to use grammar to the best of our ability. We start e-mails with “Dear” and finish with “Kind regards” that lack in kindness but are abundant in indifference.
We spend too much time talking, making noise. When most of our lives are spent in silence.
Quite a somber post, but think about it, if you were to be silent for a day, what sound would your silence make?
“He who does not understand your silence will probably not understand your words.”
― Elbert Hubbard