Silence is Golden

The ode to Mother Earth continues as I relate the simple joys found living in bush country. My days are no longer filled with a list of to-dos and places to be, and I am free to savor our daily routine. The Kookaburra’s loud chatter announces the day, and the electric kettle springs into action. It is winter in Australia and although Widgee boasts an average of 320 plus days of sun a year, it is quite cold (3 Celcius) when the sun goes down. Our camper is nestled in a eucalyptus forest within calling distance from the main house. The tall boughs of the gum trees provide coveted shelter from the summer sun’s intensity but keep our unheated caravan wrapped in shadows through much of the day. As often as possible you will find Cameron and I nestled under a thick layer of covers, a book in one hand and a cup of tea in the other. After warming up with a spot of tea, we head to our outdoor yoga studio which features the sun rising on the right as the moon sets on the left, the vast blue sky and the variegated greens of a proud palm over head. What a spectacular way to start the day. Our yoga asana practice closes with a seated meditation and the recitation of a mantra chanted by Gandhi and his followers. Cameron memorized this elaborate chant on a Peace Walk through India and is slowly teaching it to me. After our practice we have taken to reading the Bhagavad-Gita aloud. The “Song of the Spirit” is a segment of the epic poem, the Mahabharata, and is one of India’s most beloved scriptures. Together we are reading Paramahansa Yogananda’s translation from cover to cover.

I couldn’t ask for a better place in which to absorb the ancient teachings that arise alternately and synergistically from the verses of the Gita and my own practice. The property possesses a calm and peaceful energy that is noted not only in my mind, body and spirit but also in that of the animals living within its borders. The wallabies, babies on board, aren’t disturbed by our presence and the very social butcherbirds keep us company in all activities from reading to working. Initially, my ears rang in protest of the silence normally filled, at a bare minimum, with the white noise of the city. This period of relative silence has restored its importance in my life three-fold. Its sudden presence has illumed my need and desire to create periods of silence in my life back home. Culturally, are we afraid of silence? Awkward silence. I am convinced that this is the case when I think about the constant hum of the television, radio and city that forms the backup vocals in the soundtrack of our private and social lives. These sounds are not inherently bad or good, they just are, and this period of silence allows me to appreciate both the silence and the sounds. A period devoid of superfluous sounds, once again, brings me back to my relationship with the Earth. The sound of the birds, rain, crickets, frogs, wind, bees, trees, and even the mosquitoes delights my ears. With senses aligned with the natural world, my own earthliness shines forth in the energy, sound and vibration of my body. The rise and fall of breath, the fire of digestion, the cadence of my heartbeat and the pulse of my spirit made manifest though a physical form.

This is no small feat for a Vata-Pita, type A personality, church of hard work junkie who is altogether more comfortable in a state of constant activity and movement than in stillness and silence. At various times throughout my life stillness and silence have been viewed as synonymous with laziness and a lack of drive and determination. My constant frenzy is an ill attempt to avoid the awkward silence and inertia that my soul needs to learn how to simply be here and now and to welcome all that is present. I understand why I feel reluctance for the next stage of our journey, a ten-day silent, and I mean completely silent – no talking, reading or writing - retreat.

I notice that I am often attracted to what is familiar and comfortable even when it has been intellectually recognized as out of synch with my highest good. Conversely, I may be able to cognitively convince myself that something is beneficial and intuitively feel otherwise. Intellectually processing is superficial and thus is constantly thwarting our best intentions through the laws of attraction. One has to get to the heart of the matter. We must welcome everything, thoughts, emotions, beliefs and physical sensations just as they are. It is only then that we will attract our hearts deepest desire and experience the joy and peace that is our birthright. That clear and discerning wisdom that lives within is like multi-faceted cyrstals splattered with mud. When we take the time to wipe clean each one of the facets of the soul our inherent inner light can shine. I sigh and remember a phrase from the Divine Love Seminar I attended last weekend with Helga and Claus. “Its simple, but its not easy.” Welcoming emotions is a commitment to feeling all emotions, even the ugly ones, and to remaining neutral throughout the process. Sadhana. Practice. Practice is messy. That is why we have teachers and ancient practices to guide us. Its no coincidence that my first experience with Yoga Nidra stirred my soul into action and has thence continually attracted people, places and things that would present opportunities to release emotions, habitual patterns, beliefs and ideas that have held it captive. I am eternally grateful for the gifts of Yoga and Yoga Nidra in my life.

This is not at all what I had intended to write this afternoon, but it came out for a reason, and so I’ll post it even though it feels a lot like rambling and even more than a little personal….