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