Entering Interior Silence

As we enter silence, our spiritual senses awaken to its richness and depth

I spend a lot of time listening to music while I work. I love all kinds of music, from classical to heavy metal to contemporary pop. But over the years, as my interior silence has deepened, it is more and more the richness of silence that feeds me. Little by little, this silence is integrating itself into my life. In conversations, I enjoy the little pauses. Rarely uncomfortable to me anymore, pauses give me a moment in which to deeply be with the other in the conversation. Silence is like a leavening that carries Spirit’s presence. The more I am silent, the more I am tuned into that greater reality.

In my work, I work with lots of people, all kinds of people. They come seeking spiritual life. They come seeking awakening. And more and more, I am spending time with clients in silence too. Many sessions begin with a period of shared silence. Other times, I might spend up to half of a session in meditation with a client. Sharing silence in this way creates a beautiful intimacy between us. It gives our souls time to come into resonance in the safety of shared space. There is something vital that can happen in those moments, a communication beyond words. Other communications inhabit the silent airwaves too. The Buddhist tradition speaks of dharma transmission, a communication of the awakened state between teacher and student. In the Trillium Awakening community to which I belong, we similarly speak of the power of transmission in helping the seeker connect to their own awakening self within. As our sensing faculties open up, we can begin to feel this transmission, like a subtle frequency that enlivens us. Sometimes a book can have a transmission, too. Or a landscape, or… most anything. So spiritual discernment can include opening to sense what in life is feeding us, or through what means Spirit is communicating itself to us. Becoming comfortable with silence sets us up to be able to sense Spirit’s more subtle communications.

Spring is here again and my morning silence has been pushed to the background as birdsong takes the leading role. If there’s a sound I love as much as silence, it might be birdsong. Often, I even hear the birdsong coming in the windows of clients and friends as we Zoom together. Every call is an invitation to experience a unique sonic environment. Yesterday, through Zoom I heard a house finch singing in Fairfield, Iowa. Last spring, I looked forward to monthly calls with a young Sri Lankan man who lived on the edge of a forest in northern India. Oh, the chorus of birds that serenaded us when he called at sunrise local time! My memory bank of sounds is deep and complex, with many layers of meaning and experience creating complex overtones and resonances over the silence in the background.

As I’m typing this, I hear a barking dog in the distance, perhaps a block away. There is the occasional rumble of a passing train. Now an airplane on approach to O’Hare. And there is a beautiful a cappella birdsong performance with chirping sparrow accompaniment. Listening more deeply, I hear a faint roar of traffic from Sheridan Road, one block to the east and still pretty quiet at 6am. Then suddenly, all the sounds fade and there is complete silence but for the sound of one robin singing.

Spiritual life is about coming alive. Our bodies and our senses must wake up, for it is through them that we receive information about the world. All of life is mediated through eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body and mind. If we are to awaken to Spirit’s presence in the world, then our senses must become spiritually sensitive, “God”-aware. When teaching, Jesus sometimes poked fun at his listeners saying that his message would be clear to “those with ears to hear,” as if some might not have ears! But perhaps he was challenging them to go more deeply into their listening? The Christian tradition invites us to listen deeply with the ears of the heart. In silent meditation we might sit with an open, receptive attitude as if listening for the sound of God’s presence. In the Zen tradition, we are challenged to listen deeply to each sound but especially to the sound of silence. When one enters deeply into silence, one may become one with it and experience wordless communion with all that is.

Listening in this deep way, we enter into and become one with the Ground of Being, the primordial naked consciousness that underlies all phenomena. We enter a timeless state of richness, beauty and simplicity. We find a fullness to life even when there is nothing in particular present. “Ah, that is how life is! It is just like this!”

Another jet is passing overhead. Soon the symphony of sounds will become louder and more complex. But the sound of silence will still always be there, like a bass note which forms the foundation for a melody. It is there in a supporting role, supporting melody and harmony and allowing them to be the stars. Tell me, can you hear the underlying silence of this moment?