The Sound of Silence
On my recent visit to Mepkin Abbey, I realized–in a way I hadn’t the last time I went– there’s no such thing as silence.
I call it a “silent retreat” when I go there, but what I mean is I turn off as much noise as I can–I don’t talk, no one talks to me, I don’t listen to music or watch shows. I stay off the internet. I use my phone to check texts from home once or twice a day, and I’ll carry it with me a couple times on the trip to take some pictures. That’s usually the extent of my connection to the outside world.
There are layers of sound in the world around us. If you stood on a busy street in New York City, you’d be surrounded by so much noise–car horns, music, the wail of sirens, shouting.
But that’s only the first layer. As you start to peel back layers of sound, you start to notice what’s underneath. Perhaps you walk into your apartment, and now the street noises are muffled. As long as you don’t immediately turn on the TV or play music, you might notice the hum of the refrigerator, the popping and cracking of your aging building, the voices in the apartment next door.
Leave the city and you might finally notice nature, hear the sound of your own heartbeat, feel your breath entering and leaving your body.
For most of us, it’s outside, away from people and computers and phones, where we can experience a level of quiet that resets the nervous system, that allows us to breathe more easily.
Since there’s no such thing as true silence, we can look for quieter places that give us greater access to the levels beneath the surface.
If we do this long enough, we experience less stress and anxiety, more connection and creativity, moments of profound joy and peace, and lowered blood pressure and heart rate.
So why do we so often avoid the quiet? Even on a walk in the woods, most of us have our phones with us. We tell ourselves it’s for safety, yet we check our texts for no reason. We tell ourselves we crave time in nature, yet we listen to a podcast or music while we hike.
At Mepkin, I experience a kind of detox. The first day or so, I find myself reaching for my phone automatically, talking out loud to myself in my room, pacing restlessly. I feel lazy, unproductive, jittery. I get that weird skin-crawly feeling. Sometimes I even have these feelings of impending doom, like something terrible is about to happen.
I suppose that’s what I’m avoiding, with all that noise and distraction.
Gradually I settle in, and I start to relax into the monk’s rhythm. Their days follow the Liturgy of the Hours, so there are set markers of time, these rituals and prayers that give their lives structure, comfort and mindful intent.
I find myself measuring the time with church bells and meals (which are eaten in silence). Wake, breakfast, walk, reading and writing, lunch, walk, reading and writing, dinner, walk, reading and writing, shower, sleep.
I joke that my love language is never having to decide what or where to eat. At Mepkin, the meals are prepared for visitors by the monks, and the main meal is midday. Mornings and evenings are more simple fare–bread and cheese, salad, soup, boiled eggs, yogurt. The diet is nutritious and mostly vegetarian.
I start to enjoy the constant access to my own mind and body, unfiltered and unaffected by the outside world. I get reacquainted with myself. I find myself feeling so small and unimportant, at the same time that I feel deeply loved and valued. It’s a paradox that always shows up for me in the quiet.
When I returned home from this visit, I spent some time considering how to bring more of the monastic life into my chaotic, noisy “real” life. It felt impossible in the past, but that was just my black and white thinking. I had made Mepkin the place I go to be alone, be quiet, and feel peace–and my story was that I had to bide my time until I could get back there and experience it again.
Why am I so drawn to Mepkin? What are the conditions, the atmosphere, that make it so much easier to access the layers beneath the surface? How can I create moments and an environment in my daily life that allow me access to the Mepkin experience?
Here’s what I’ve come to so far:
* Ritual (The Liturgy of the Hours)I can create my own rituals to start and end my day. It could be adding reading, or writing, to my morning coffee time. It will probably involve me getting up earlier (sigh). I could find healthy ways to close out the day, let it go and release.
* Minimalism (only what is necessary and beautiful)I live with humans who like to accumulate stuff. We will never (sadly) be minimalists. My goal is to find the corners of our home that I can claim for me. I’m also embracing a basket system–having baskets in the rooms so that I can toss clutter in them and at least get it in a pile. Less clutter = more energy.
* Simple meals (healthy, delicious and easy)My partner does most of the cooking, for which I’m eternally grateful. However, we get really off track if we don’t check in on Sundays about meals for the week. Really committing to our Sunday family meeting will help so much.
* Quiet (most spaces are silent spaces)Get outside and often. Less technology. Ask for more quiet time at home.
* Beauty (formal gardens and beautifully manicured grounds)Spend more time in our yard, making it a place I want to be. Seek out beauty, it’s all around.
* Structure (The Liturgy of the Hours)Have boundaries around my time. Schedule in workouts and writing time. Let “sameness” in my schedule free up space in my head for more important things.
Does any of this resonate with you? Leave a comment below, I’d love to know your thoughts.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to organize my pantry…
Love and Mepkin vibes,
Amy
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