Listening to the Silence

One thing that feeds the soul is solitude. While solitude can be an inner quality such as inner peace, it can also be external. I seek external solitude in places that are away from people, traffic, and noise. Fortunately, there is a wonderful nature preserve called Devil's Den that is a 20 minute drive from my home (I am aware of the irony that one of the important places in my spiritual life is called Devil's Den).

A few days ago, after I finished my work, I headed to Devil's Den for an hour of snowshoeing. Since we've had 4 major snowstorms over the past 6 weeks, there was plenty of snow-- up to 3 feet in most places! Because it was a cold Friday afternoon, I was the only person there.

I was enjoying the exertion of snowshoeing when I stopped for a drink of water. Suddenly I heard it. Silence. There was no wind. No birds were singing. Just silence. I stood there for several minutes, not wanting to break the spell. I watched the sunlight filter through low clouds and took in the beauty of the brilliant white snow.

So often, we don't know what we're missing until we experience it. I realized that such silence is all too rare in my life. While driving, I listen to the radio. While walking in my town, there are sounds of traffic. Even when I'm alone at home with no appliances on, there are sounds of wood creaking and the heater blowing. Silence is also rare in nature with the sounds of wind, birds, streams and boots hitting the trail.

There are few things that feed the soul like silence. Finding times and places of stillness can help soothe the mind and calm the soul. However, our ability to enjoy silence depends on whether we have cultivated inner solitude as well. More about that in another blog.

SIlent Driving

Lately, I have been turning off the radio or CD player in my car so that I can enjoy a few minutes of silence. At first, driving in silence seems strange. There are so few places in our lives where we experience silence. Yet, silence feeds the soul in ways different than music or words.

When you think about it, our lives are filled with noise. Much of this noise is in the background and we become so used to it we don’t even notice it. We once lived in a house a few blocks from Interstate 95. At first, when we sat out on the deck in the evening, we were conscious of the almost constant traffic noise. But after a few months, we didn’t “hear” it any longer and when friends would come over and comment on the noise we were surprised. Then, we moved to a house much farther away from the highway. It was so quiet that, at first, we couldn’t sleep at night! Eventually, we got used to the quietness. Yes, silence takes some getting used to.

Praying is one of the most spiritual acts. In prayer, we bring all that we are to God in words spoken, thought or felt. When I use the word “prayer” I am referring to the fullness of kinds of praying: praise, thanksgiving, confession, intercession and supplication. However, we can fall into the trap of viewing prayer as a one way street: us communicating to God. The other dimension of prayer is listening. And to listen, we must be silent.

Silent driving opens up the possibility of listening to God and to our innermost selves. The great 20th century spirituality writer, Thomas Merton, once said, “God speaks to us in three ways: in the words of scripture, in our deepest selves, and in the voice of the stranger.” When we are driving in silence, we especially are open to hearing God speaking in our deepest selves, our souls.

A Hike Into Silence

I just returned from a 7 mile hike in the Bandelier National Monument wilderness. This rugged wilderness near Los Alamos, NM, is laced with canyons, mesas, streams and the spectacular cliff dwelling ruins of the Anasazi.

My hike took me down and up four canyons, each progressively deeper. Alamo Canyon, the fourth and final, was 600 feet deep. The trail into this canyon of red, orange and grey cliffs was a marvel of engineering. Most of it was rock steps and descended over many switchbacks. I had lunch at the top of Alamo. The photo of Alamo Canyon on the right comes from wilderness.com.

Because there was lots of snow and ice on the trail, I had to be careful. I used trekking poles and this allowed me to look around when I was hiking on more level ground. I was rewarded for my vigilance by seeing four elk, five mule deer, and one jack rabbit. The elk must use the hiking trail as it was graced with a multitude of elk droppings. I didn't hike for more than a few steps without seeing elk raisins.

What was most compelling about this hike was the total silence for a large part of it. There was no wind and few birds. When I ate lunch, I was surrounded by silence. There are few things that feed the soul like silence. In silence there are no distractions other than those we create ourselves.

Experiencing this soulful silence reminded me how rare it is in my life. There is almost always noise in my life. Even when I'm typing at my computer in a very silent room, I can still hear the noise of the keys.

The psalmist said, "Be still and know that I am God." Out of stillness and silence can come a stronger relationship with God. I wonder how I can create more silence in my daily life so I won't have to find a wilderness whenever I need nourishing stillness.