White space. Silence. Being alone. Do you find them terrifying?
We like to fill our days, our moments, our hands with things to do. We’re always busy. But when life moves too fast, when there’s too much to handle, we yearn for a few moments to breathe, for peace, to climb down from the ledge we’ve suddenly found ourselves on. How did I get here? is the first question. Why is this happening? may be the second. We need…space.
But too much space? We run. We hide. That’s just as terrifying as our problems, maybe even more. Because it means we have to slow down, and go deeper. In the openness, there’s no bullshit to shelter us. We have to ask the tough questions, and deal with fears we don’t want anyone to know about. It’s better to keep the curtains drawn.
A few weeks ago I went away from family, friends and the city looking for more space. So I took myself to a meditation retreat, away from the noise of humanity. I joined others looking for the same thing. We spent ten days there, observing ‘noble silence’ for most of our stay. Noble silence: no talking, eye or physical contact, no phones, no reading, no writing, no music.
We sat for meditation for ten hours a day, learning the Buddhist meditation technique of Vipassana. We were among others but kept to ourselves. So much silence. I couldn’t remember the last time it was so quiet that I only heard birds chirping. At night, I saw a thousand stars. I could feel the space even though the retreat wasn’t big.
Let me tell you, when you have so much space, the curtains start to open. Thought after thought, then thoughts piling on each other. And you have to let them in, see them, then learn not to react to them. That was the purpose of our meditation. It is the ultimate challenge, because the more we react to thoughts, that’s how we spend our life, reacting to one thing after another. We live gnawing over the past or worrying about the future, anywhere but the present.
At times it was frustrating, boring, infuriating. And my practice? Well it was as good as an ashtray on a motorcycle. Hence, a practice. But I realize the value in this, in the attempt itself. We rejoice in the space when we declutter our home, get the paperwork off our desk, check emails off in our inbox, but shy away when we need it in our hearts and minds. There has to be a place you can go to just be, to close the door to all the noise or the pain or whatever circles your brain is running around in. Space is a relief, a rest, a chance to regroup and reset. And just when you can’t find any, you need it the most. That’s when you have to make space.
A little empty space changes a busy life to a full life. Don’t let it scare you away.
I have always avoided silence because the noise in my head is so loud, noise from the inside is the only thing that turns it off.
It has never occurred to me until this moment that if I have external silence long enough I might get some internal silence.
I think it’s worth trying, but noise is so much the norm that silence is either hard to come by (without effort), seems boring or down right scary. In the silence, it’s easier to hear the voice inside (in a good way, not a crazy way). I’ve found the silence essential for centering myself, but of course, results vary.
Where we live now (but not for long) I can drive 10 minutes, get out of the car, and hear nothing but nature. No human sounds at all.
Which I need to do.
Of course, after our move, I’ll still be able to do this, but it’ll be an hour, not 10 minutes.
If you start to like it, an hour may not seem too bad 🙂