The Sound of Silence, My Path Away from the Comfort of Human-DOing

“Hello darkness, my old friend, I’ve come to talk with you again,
Because a vision softly creeping, left its seeds while I was sleeping,
And the vision that was planted in my brain, still remains
Within the sound of silence.”  Simon and Garfunkel

I’m a “doer”.  I make it happen. I emphatically say YES.  I reinvent myself after failure. I consistently seek the next big thing. I prefer my life messy, full of opportunity, rich with possibility. I gulp down busy-ness for breakfast. My glass is not half full; it’s overflowing.

When given the challenge to do something well outside my comfort zone, I considered “Is there anything outside my comfort zone?”  My husband suggested I tackle high-level math or accounting.  While I respect his suggestion, my visceral reaction was to vomit a bit in my mouth, before responding, “Um, I don’t think that’s quite the idea.”

I started to consider what terrifies me, freaks me out; rattle’s me to the core?  Silence.  Not as in “nothing comes to mind”, but rather SILENCE scares the shit out of me. BEING instead of DOING freaks me out.  Internal peace and calm rattles me to the core.

I equate PEACE with REST IN, as in you’re DEAD, GAME OVER, that bleak silence of grief after my grandma, dad and little brother died.  I remember the heavy silence in my first marriage, when I knew I couldn’t survive the relationship but wasn’t yet able to utter the words to end it.  I also consider the CALM before the storm. In 1980 my dad and I were in a tornado that destroyed much of downtown Kalamazoo, MI. Before it hit, there was an eerie calm, a silence so profound, recalling it gives me the shivers.  The unmoored thought of being accepted for WHO I am instead of WHAT I DO. This darkness is not my idea of an old friend.

Since my cognitive therapy roots run deep, I grew curious about other associations with these “sounds of silence.”  What if I turned the kaleidoscope wheel to view these pieces in another way?  Could the individual pieces shift into something unexpected, something that could alter my thinking?

I’m sitting alone on a beach in California; the soothing music of waves breaking over smooth stones transforms me from human-doing to a human-being. I recount the profound silence in a counseling session that allows time and space to feel, contemplate, honor and breath, REALLY breath.  My mind recreates the calm, silent connection, “no words can describe” when in New Zealand I witnessed Orca’s playing in their natural habitat. The internal calm I feel every time my husband gives me a glance that tells me he “gets me” (and still loves me.)

These sounds of silence are still, yet alive. I can feel truly calm surrounded by love.  I’ve had the wondrous experience of BEing grounded in the awe of the moment. I encourage the beauty of silence in my office.  “All I am saying, is give peace a chance.”  John Lennon

YES, when you put it THAT way.