When I took a 200-hour yoga training a few years ago, one of the days I looked forward to the most was our planned day of silence. We'd show up, do yoga all day, and not talk to anyone, from the time we woke up to the time we fell asleep. It was a sunny, beautiful day, and I pictured myself taking a long walk, being particularly attuned to the sounds of birds and the wind, eating a healthy lunch by myself, and becoming totally refreshed.
It was torture.
In the morning, my kids and husband wanted to tell me things. I could only nod and try to get out of the house as fast as possible. At the yoga training, there were no laughs, no bits of practical advice, no hellos in the hallway. The day began with us, about 40 students and ten teachers, tentatively going about our yoga practice, copying what we saw. There were a few awkward hugs. No one could ask how someone's day was, or how they felt. The other senses were heightened, but exhausted, pulling more than their usual weight. It was somber, not peaceful.
And this was only one day, not nearly as long as Norwegian explorer Erling Kagge spent in silence, 50 days crossing Antarctica. Maybe something would have shifted in the second, or third day for me, but I'm happy to not have had to find that out.
This week's show, "Taking Comfort in the Sound of Silence," explores the silence of a rain forest in Washington state, the toxic noise of our day to day world, pauses between chords of rock songs, and even the life of the iconic silent performer, the mime Marcel Marceau.
Have you ever sought out silence? Or had it forced upon you? I'd love to hear your story at listen@ttbook.org.
–Shannon