This invitation is for women who resonate with the practice of silence to join us in spending the last Sunday of each month in silence. Each person will organize these days in the ways that fit for her. The distribution of our time zones will form a wave of silence and connection round the world, and for each one a personal root into a universal source of inspiration.

This blog is for those who wish to describe their experience and ask questions, so we can learn from each other and support the richness of the practice.  A full explanation of the practice and intent is also listed as “The Invitation” under Pages. This blog is hosted by The Ashland Institute http://www.ashlandinstitute.org.

Below is a video of author Anne LeClaire speaking about her experience of silence, at an Ashland Institute retreat for women called Coming Into Your Own http://www.ashlandinstitute.org/retreats.html.  In her video Anne speaks of practicing on two Mondays  per month for the past 17 years.  She will also be joining us on our Sundays.

If you have questions about how to join us, please email the site administrator at: dorian.baroni@gmail.com

Moving toward another Day of Silence, I realized that the family reunion beginning that Sunday was not a good time for being still. But it would be good for everybody to get a touch of it, if there was a way I could do that…… I decided I just had to trust the life-process to offer some kind of opportunity for sharing from a still heart…..

Before I left, I went for a morning hike in the woods, feeling the earth with each step. The rhythm of walking seemed to move me along into a state of BEING. I think of that as not working things out, but letting life show me what I need to do, in the situation as it is….. “Be with me, Lord,” I quietly said as I returned to my house,”so that I bring the right things for my trip.”

As I was done packing, I thought of the family-reunion 10 years ago, five days along the coast on a ship to Northern Norway. It is a group of cousins of my husband, who have gotten together every few years. Then I thought of the journal I wrote during that particular trip, which I had recently come accross in a folder. I packed it, perhaps it might be useful.

On the train I read through the journal. I had descriptions of life’s beauty and wonder, of midnight sun and majestic mountains, of shared experience close, and visions of magical distant horizons. I marked sections in my text I could possibly share, and a perfect opportunity emerged as one of the cousins told a particular story she remembered from that trip. I asked if they would like to hear something from my trip-journal, and it was most welcome.

After talking and laughing, and sharing a wonderful meal, a day of silence was honored as I quietly read. My words seemed to touch them both as memories as well as something of a deeper meaning. The atmosphere of the evening initiated a special three days together. I believe it also helped “my nerves” as I was asked to drive one of the cars for our city-sightseeing on Monday. I always try to avoid city-traffic after living more than 20 years in a rural area now.

That was my participation this month, in our global community pulse,
Kari

Thank you very much for the generous offer to join this community. The space you are creating is beautiful and fertile.

With others in Europe, we have been wondering how to amplify muted voices in the world so those who have been forced to silence could express themselves if they wanted to. We evolved the word amplify to connect to make sure our work would not add to the current cacophony. I love the feeling of chosen silence you suggest to embrace. Chosen silence is likely to be the best practice to truly listen to muted voices in ourselves and in others.

I sense the energy and strength of holding silence visibly and collectively. This gives our silence a further depth, a deeper purpose.

Thank you for the idea. Thank you for the beautiful invitation and platform. I will be in silence with you regularly, though most likely not on the Sundays (I have 3 young children). I wonder if the idea of keeping a chain of silence at our respective times could be explored? Maybe we could sign up to hold silence at different times for each other and for the world? I would love to know that even when I am loud and vocal, others are in a chosen silence for me and the world, to stay connected to this silence and community at all times…

With love…..Laure

This is a deep heartfelt request. On Tuesday this week, Kacy died. She was 3 years old. The tragedy of child abuse continues in our community. I have an idea that came from something my friend, Cher Everhart, said. I posted the article about Kacy’s death on FaceBook and Cher’s response was “Heartbreaking & speechless, how could this happen without someone hearing something. It’s only because when I was young, our neighbor kid was abused. My family could hear it. Mom would call the police and they would take their time getting there. If they couldn’t “hear” anything. They did nothing. Then the next day, the neighbor kid would come over to our home, batter and bruised. But no one would do anything because they refused to “hear” it. Even as a young kid, I could not understand why adults let this happen to her.”

Cher’s comment has spurred me and CAN to action. On Monday at 4:00 pm we will gather in Vogel Plaza and beginning at 4:15 pm we will begin listening. This means we will be silent for one hour from 4:15 to 5:15. We will be actively listening to what’s going on around us. The effort will be to increase our ability to stop, to listen, to notice what is going on around us. Maybe by just listening, others will too and we can only imagine what can change.

Please join me, members of CAN and anyone willing to come, to stand, to listen. Wear blue, any shade. Blue is the color of Child Abuse Awareness month and the color for Foster Care Awareness month. Please come, please bring your friends. Please listen. See you at Vogel Plaza Monday, June 21 at 4:00 pm.

 I just had to tell you how happy I am that she lent me Anne LeClaire’s book which also had the Invitation to Silence letter in it.   She knew it would be just the thing for me !     and she was right, I immediately pegged a day of silence for myself, and warned my whole family of what I was doing, and ofcourse couldn’t wait for that day to come, it was like knowing I was going on holiday!     Then the day came and it was as if I was on holiday, I have never felt such relief as I did that day of not having to talk to anyone, answer the phone etc etc.     I did go into the Secret Garden as Anne describes in the book ( I know the movie well)    and I also found it overgrown and full of “weeds” etc. and so had wonderful day weeding, exploring and just revelling in the solitude and peace of it. I will definitely be having silent days on a regular basis and look forward to spending time  and tending my “Inner Garden”

Each time a silent Sunday comes around,I am sustained anew by the thought of so many women embracing silence and being embraced by it. I am reminded of the things that connect us truly and that nurture us and of the power of common intent. Thank you all for adding your “voice” for silence to the world.

I invite you, too, to share my reflections on silence, life, and writing on my blog, “Dispatch From Cape Cod,” which appears on my website, www.anneleclaire.com.
Wishing you all peace and joy below the noise.
Anne

I am starting and enjoying my first day of silence.

Not perhaps, the first ever in my life (I remember a 3-day solo in Outward Bound during college) but certainly the first in years and, most importantly, since marriage and children.

And I guess I am curious how others experience this day in the midst of family/community. Half my children are gone (two are out of town today) so it is a smaller household here. But it is so different — for them and for me — not to be speaking. I hear the voices in my head and the voice I would have used with others. Sometimes caring (do you feel better this morning, how was your evening?), sometimes instructive (do this, do that), sometimes critical (don’t put that there), sometimes questioning (so you lied to me last night but then decided to tell me the truth?).

Part of me is relieved and curious and filled up with the listening. Part of me is flailing by not being able to express myself. And there does seem to be much more time, space, perspective.

And I’ve just started…Ellen

Greetings all! I admit to not being at all blog savvy — and judging from the lingering “loading” indicators on my screen suspect that my older Mac may not be either. Notwithstanding — deepest thanks to those who have had a hand in organizing this forum.

As I write the Pacific is roaring, as she so often does these days; and yet of all the places I have spent any appreciable time, it is the ocean I most equate as an ideal setting for the essences of stillness and silence I crave — yet she is anything but! I am learning to hear the subtleties carried on the waves: portents of weather, the tension of moon and tide, moods of earth, of people…and three days before the Haitian earthquake, she signaled an upcoming change, though I did not know how to fully translate it at the time. There is a great coherence to her sound that makes all the difference and that speaks to my soul’s longing.

I made a miscalculation in January, thinking our shared Silent Sunday to be the 24th instead of the 31st — and came to the end of the day wondering where everyone was! What I so love of the growing tangibility of our shared practice is the PERMISSION, both given and received, it provides to step away from custom and outer demands/controls on behavior and step into a way that honors the deep urging of soul. I cannot really explain why that word, “permission”, stands out so strongly right now, but to me it is significant. Deepest thanks to all! — Elna (North Oregon coast)

Thank you very much for the generous offer to join this community. The space you are creating is beautiful and fertile.

With others in Europe, we have been wondering how to amplify muted voices in the world so those who have been forced to silence could express themselves if they wanted to. We evolved the word amplify to connect to make sure our work would not add to the current cacophony. I love the feeling of chosen silence you suggest to embrace. Chosen silence is likely to be the best practice to truly listen to muted voices in ourselves and in others.

I sense the energy and strength of holding silence visibly and collectively. This gives our silence a further depth, a deeper purpose.

Thank you for the idea. Thank you for the beautiful invitation and platform. I will be in silence with you regularly, though most likely not on the Sundays (I have 3 young children). I wonder if the idea of keeping a chain of silence at our respective times could be explored? Maybe we could sign up to hold silence at different times for each other and for the world? I would love to know that even when I am loud and vocal, others are in a chosen silence for me and the world, to stay connected to this silence and community at all times…

With love…..Laure

Hello my friends! (On our last day of Silence, I happened to have had a borrowed little web-cam. My timeless and relaxed day gave me space to play! ) Here are my Silent/Solitude – Sunday Self-portraits from January 31: A meaningful meditation and exercise to meet and greet Happy Self! The Solstice Season and my Silent Sundays have served me joyously well. Loving our connection~~Ann B

The call to silence came at such an important time for me and I have now read the book and welcome the last day of the month. The winter months are hard. In fact, I am convinced that I have seasonal affective disorder. I lose my tread about now.  With the greatest of love to you, Anne