Silence Rocks

"I want time to notice sheep's feet." Taken out of context, the preceding sentence seems absurd. However, when I read these words in Sara Maitland's profound and beautifully written memoir A Book of Silence, they struck a chord within me and made me laugh, which is why I'm sharing them with you here. Maitland is referring to living in the kind of silence and solitude that allows her to focus on the simple, precious details that make up our lives. (She lives a solitary life in rural Scotland and gets to watch a lot of sheep.)
I live in a city and spend a fair amount of time with friends. That does not leave me a lot of time for complete peace and quiet. I confess that when I find moments of stillness, and I'm fortunate that I find them daily (I make a point of it) I'll even begin to feel restless and bored until I realize that I'm forgetting to breathe. (It requires constant effort to stay conscious all the time. I still have a lot of work to do.) When I focus on my body and my breath, which is meditation plain and simple and can be done almost anywhere and any time, any incipient ennui is nipped in the bud. This pleasant state of affairs is more easily achieved when I'm alone and quiet.
Silence and solitude go well with less stuff, so I'm trying to rid myself of more of my belongings. Since moving over a year ago, much of what I own is still stored away in boxes. I obviously don't need or use that stuff, but it's still taking up space in my life. Time for another purge. Silence is so much deeper when there's more space to enjoy it. I don't know how Celtic Christian monks, nuns and other hermits lived in those tiny beehive huts without suffering from claustrophobia. I don't have the discipline or desire to live such an ascetic life. But I certainly want a simpler life.
It's only been very recently that I've stopped dreaming about being worldly and successful, and discovered that I can find happiness other ways, simpler ways. My definition of happiness has changed. If I were asked to define it, words such as peace, wisdom, solitude and silence would be included. But I'm not about to engrave any of that in stone yet.
I have the house entirely to myself right now. My housemate is away for a few days, and even though we live separate lives and can spend hours in the house working quietly in our separate rooms, unaware of each other, there's an intangible something that renders my quiet time even more quiet when I'm home alone. Without another person sharing the house, there are no boundaries that define the quality of silence within that space. I don't hear any difference in the customary level of sound, but I can perceive a subtle difference in the silence.
- G. P.