Sunday, February 13, 2011

The Powerful Voice of Silence

Unconscious Speaking
In our culture, we are battered with words often spoken half-consciously or unconsciously. Words fly out of our mouths at warp speed, pressured, unintelligible, mulched in with colloquialisms and delivered without thought as to their intended meaning. Our vernacular uses superlatives to shape beliefs we act then act out: “Hurry! Sale ends soon!” “Buy now! Don’t miss out!” Our behavior is in large part, an outcome of the way in which we use language.
“How are you?” with the reply, “I’m fine” is a common exchange. How often have we wondered why we ask unless there is time and desire to hear a genuine response? What gesture can we offer instead? Perhaps eye contact, a smile and saying, It’s good to see you.”
“Love you,” a wife says to her husband on the phone, a pregnant comma following. She waits for him to return the sentiment. “Me too,” he says. Satisfied, she disconnects clicking the “end” button on her phone. She said it to assure herself that some remnant of love still remained. He replied in a constricted way; love was missing and besides, there was work to be done. He would not or could not get into the landscape of his actual state of mind and emotion, not with her. She was his wife, he didn’t want to hurt her. The marriage crucible cannot become capable of holding truth unless its occupants intentionally subject it to alchemical fire to burnish it into high resonance. Suppose he had obeyed the urge to remain silent and say nothing? In the silence, she would have been given back her own words, an invitation to become conscious. And the crucible would begin to sing with fire.
Silence- the gentle teacher
A couple argues the same argument, each sentence beginning with the word, “why,” which usually invites a defensive response. The circularity and escalation of the argument has no purpose, its words running in a haphazard herd, raising egoic dust and blinding its warriors to any possibility of resolution. If only someone would lower their eyes, come to their knees and offer gentle silence. The body posture is surrender, the silence is the invitation. Silence invites one to return to the heart, to make an affective turn inward to mindfulness. Thich Nat Hanh writes, “Just embracing your anger, breathing in and breathing out, that is good enough…” The breath offers medicine to the paralyzed heart, freeing it from the bondage of misperception and destructive thoughts.


Too Many Words
In the turbulence of words, meaning and intent loses its place. The desire to listen and investigate assumptions is usurped by the need to be right. Reversing this pattern requires us to slow down our speech, carefully considering what we want to say and being economical in our use of words. Too many words turn the potential for poetic expression into noise. Allowing silence to fill the spaces between sentences opens the way for reflection and creative response. Taking the time to be curious, to check out assumptions and to choose words with care reduces the potential for reactivity and circular arguments.

The Palate of Words

An artist stands before her canvas and considers her choices colors for a painting of a landscape or perhaps of a beloved pet playing by the sea. Nature’s own palate provides a template for the artist to follow and she mixes according to the sounds she hears and the multiple voices of green speaking through the trees and grasses. She backs away just breathing and looking at the canvas before her. Does it speak what is in her imagination? Does the work of expression sing in harmony with Nature’s perfect voice?
Words are often spoken without consideration as to whether they fit what the heart longs to express. Too often, the voice of fear with its many disguises and costumes steps onto center stage and silences the tender voice of the psyche (the soul) and the heart. Jealousy masquerades as loving intention, explaining insists that it only wants understanding when all it really wants is to be right and to defend its position, anger says it speaks “for their own good” or in righteous indignation at some offense. All of these are the faces of fear. And when fear steps onto center stage, love exits and waits in the wings for the two cannot co-exist.
Choosing our Words
Choosing words with care and with an undefended heart requires an affective turn inward. As the artist’s eyes and ears attune to how she may best offer honor and sincerity of expression in her work, so must we be mindful of how we use words.
The Way of Council, a book written by Jack Zimmerman and Virginia Coyle describe the four intentions of holding council in the Native American Tradition. Those four intentions are: speaking from the heart, listening from the heart, being spontaneous and being lean of speech. Speaking from the heart requires being able to distinguish what is truly of the heart from the many voices of fear. Speaking from the heart is always an expression of love. Listening with or from the heart means one listens with the whole body rather than allowing the ego to dominate, to think up a response or defense or explanation while the other is speaking. Spontaneity in speaking means trusting that what the heart wants to express is perfect even when it may seem unrelated to what has been spoken by the other. And perhaps most important is being lean of speech. As the artist takes her brushes and mixes as her senses inform her way of expression, she is careful and quiet before she considers which colors fit. Often, she must walk away and allow silence to incubate what is in her imagination for a time before she returns to her canvas. It is well that we do the same when using words to express ourselves. The fewer words and the more quietly they are spoken, the more clear and powerful the message.