the sounds of silence

a spring retreat to listen

Dear friends, thank you for being here. Thank you for being you. Thank you for making space to consider the ways we might enjoy knowing ourselves… and our commitment to the endeavor.

It’s really the adventure of our lives. While we may have been trained on scorecards that count up wealth, work, fame, and pleasure points, I’m pretty convinced these tallies don’t answer a more profound and pressing question: why am I here?

I’m not alone on this one. From the thinkers of days way past to contemporary friends in healing, those who make some space for the question generally come to the same view on our tallies: it ain’t that. Hospice nurses have become the messengers of dying regrets. It’s never: I wish I’d worked more or ignored my health. Nor: I wish I’d watched more news or argued with my neighbors over politics.

The regrets are ones of priority: for courage, purpose, spirit, expression, family, self-esteem, experience. When folks see the game clock approaching zero, their perspective shifts quickly. They wish they’d appreciated the mysteries of their lives. Not solved them, but savored them.

To savor mystery, we have to sense it. We have to ask the questions that bring us into contact with it. And we have to forge our way toward the answers. We think the way is dark, and it may be… a bit. Here and there. Sometimes, a lot. The depths of darkness conceal what waits to be revealed. A friend told me about a documentary of a climber who fell into a crevasse in the Himalayas. He thought it was certain death. He couldn’t wait for help in the cold, and he couldn’t scramble up, so he moved deeper and deeper in. Eventually, he broke into the light of day.

So, why are we here?

Like the climber, we can get stuck. We fall into the crack formed by everything and nothing. If life has no meaning, we believe we’re meaningless; if life is meaning-full, we believe we have meaning to find. We fear the reality on either side— one leaves us unimportant, the other requires effort.

And not just any effort. A brave effort. An effort that doesn’t come with a curriculum leading to a college degree, good salary, nice home, partner or prize. This is the curriculum we prepare for ourselves, let’s say before we were born, and we forgot every lesson we planned when we took our first breath.

But maybe not completely?

This month, I’ll share techniques for us to make space for quiet, and to listen to its guidance. You’ll find a meditation below to get you going.

We live in a raucous time. Noise is everywhere. That noise can be chaotic. It distracts us from focus; it prevents us from listening carefully. In all that distraction, we can become so scattered— not just our attention, but our intentions, thoughts, emotions, and bodies can feel dismembered from us.

The topic is a personal fave. I’ve written about it, taught workshops about it, and feel deeply committed that our healing— as humans and humanity— asks for occasional silence. We need it to hear the questions we’re asking of ourselves and to discover the guidance pouring through us when we allow for the quiet.

being quiet

Let’s remember the quiet.

There are very few places left on earth where 15 minutes can pass without the interruption of human-made noises— even off the beaten track, it’s hard to escape plane engines, the drone of transmission lines or thrumming of windmills.

That’s okay. That’s our time and its condition. These loud times are an alarm calling us within. There’s silence there. Let’s find it together, patiently and with forgiving hearts.

---

YOU’RE INVITED TO THE QUIET…

Listen to the meditation shared here and join me for our Spring online retreat: Questions and Answers for the Quiet.

We’ll meet via zoom on Saturday, March 29 from 10am to 11am pacific. During this time, we’ll be quiet together, listening to our bodies moving gently, to our breath, for our questions, and for our guidance.

Everyone is welcome to join; the retreat is free for paid subscribers or friends are welcome to share $25 to the cause! Please send me a note to RSVP and I’ll put you on the list. I hope you’ll share the invitation with friends.

Thank you for being you.