Silence

Evening Silence – Day Twenty Six

Posted on by Lisa Weikel 6 Comments

 

Evening Silence

I’m sitting here trying really hard to think of something even remotely interesting to write about tonight.

I’ve turned off the tv much earlier than usual (or at least, earlier than I used to), as I’ve done every evening since beginning the 1111 Devotion project, because it’s just way too distracting to have it on while I’m trying to write and thus the only way I’ll get the job done.

I must admit: I love listening to the silence, especially the silence that descends upon a room immediately upon clicking the tv into oblivion. It never fails to soothe me, no matter what I’m doing in the moment. And just like now, I wonder why I don’t seek evening silence out more often.

I’m calling it evening silence because I don’t seem to ever be tempted to turn the tv on during the day. Of course, a lot of times I’m not in a position to turn one on during the day. I’m not bringing this up as any ‘badge of honor’ sort of thing. It’s just a fact that I only rarely become aware of – but am appreciating much more often as a result of engaging my commitment.

Appreciation: A By-Product of My Act of Power

I guess you could say this appreciation of the evening silence is an unexpected but delightful by-product of this Act of Power. And in a way, it is a means of garnering power.

Even if I might be otherwise watching a program that edifies me in some way, I don’t think I get as much out of it, quite honestly, as I do the silence. Because if I lapse into the normal routine I was in prior to making this commitment, I would retire upstairs as soon as I turned off the tv. I might read my book for a few minutes, but in truth, my actual presence in and appreciation of the evening silence was minimal.

I find myself thinking back on when our sons were growing up, especially the two older ones, Karl and Maximus. Back when Karl was in elementary school, we didn’t get cable at first. We were limited to the three channels (3, 6, and 10) of the major networks, and maybe some UHF channels. Granted, that didn’t last long. But I know it made a difference in the way we spent our time.

Indeed, I sometimes wonder – especially lately – whether that is not a significant liability to my efforts to write the sequel to Owl Medicinehttps://amzn.to/2M6st6B. I’ve become addicted to the political news shows, especially. In some ways, I feel it is my civic responsibility to remain aware and informed. And goodness knows, it becomes harder and harder to peel our eyes away from the latest ‘news.’

But really, I have to ask myself: Is it worth my time? Wouldn’t I rather be spending time in the evening silence, immersed in one of my beloved books? Or writing one of my own?

Yeah, I think I would.

(T-1085)

Silence – Day Six (T-1105)

Posted on by Lisa Weikel 3 Comments

 

 

Silence

When was the last time you spent some time in a place where there was no internet connection? And beyond that, no cell service whatsoever?

Karl and I are sitting before a glowing fire that’s alternately snapping and crackling then spitting and hissing as snowmelt drips down from the top of the chimney. We’re in the main room of a cabin on the bank of the Tohickon Creek. The rushing intensity of the water’s flow as it courses like roiling magma toward the Delaware from right to left just yards off the cabin’s porch is drowned out by the monotonous intensity of a cataract cascading down the rocky boulders of the cliffs across from us.

The creek is at the crest of its banks, filled to the brim from the more than half foot of snow that snuck up on our region only two days ago.

Lack of Choice Brings Liberation? Sometimes…

Darkness has descended upon the forest and when we open the wooden door to fetch more logs, the voice of the creek fills our ears, sounding as if it might carry the cabin itself into the river, as recently chilled air pushes past us to ripen at the fire.

We’re literally only five minutes from our home, but the isolation from electronics is incredibly liberating. And part of that liberation is in our lack of choice. We don’t have to “think” about it one way or another. We don’t have to exercise discipline to resist clicking to check on the latest state of our world; we don’t have to choose to put our devices on airplane mode. We can just be.

It’s an odd feeling, especially for me. I’ve been vacillating for weeks, knowing I’d rented this cabin for the weekend and earnestly wanting to share it with my friends and family, possibly even clients or readers of my Hoot Alerts, who might yearn for an impromptu Listening Retreat. I kept asking Spirit: “Should I offer another retreat? Should I gather my Ayllu*?”

Permission to Just BE

And it never felt quite right to do so. So I didn’t.

It feels a little selfish of me not to share this beauty. This isolation. This opportunity to just be. But I know, intellectually, that we need to take time for ourselves. Maybe we need to be a little bit selfish sometimes, in the sense that we put our need for silence first, ahead, even, of the amazing joy it gives me each and every time I lead a Listening Retreat or Ayllu Gathering.

And that’s where I am as I write this. The meeting of my head and my heart; the place where I allow myself to take a step back from listening to others and give myself permission to listen to the silence.

I am grateful.

—-

*Ayllu is a Quechua word for a band or group of people who share a common lineage or set of teachings and experiences, a concept similar to a “tribe.”