I had an interesting experience this week with a friend who has been committed to silence for the past couple of months. My friend is a deeply spiritual man who is seeking to honor his inner dictates even when this makes him seem a bit odd to the rest of the world. Recently, he has felt drawn to remain in silence, communicating with others only in writing although they are welcome to communicate with him however they wish.
Some people mistake him for a mute, try using sign language (which he doesn’t speak) to communicate with him, or otherwise misunderstand what he is doing. But he is learning many things through this practice, including to accept being misunderstood.
My friend and I get together every now and then, usually to take a walk. But this time, we decided to meet in a meeting room at the library so we could communicate in writing. I never realized before that the Redwood City Public Library offers meeting rooms with large tables, lot of plugs in the wall, and a glass wall like a corporate conference room. Perfect!
I didn’t know how I might communicate when we got together. I brought a tablet of paper to write on, but I thought this might be frustratingly slow for me and difficult for him to read my writing. I brought my laptop so I could write more readably and quickly, keeping better pace with my thoughts. But when we first sat down, my friend wrote to me on sheets of paper that were partially used (not to waste paper), and I stuck with what was familiar, speaking quietly to him in response to his questions, filling him in on all the latest news in my life. There was lots to tell.
After a while, this didn’t feel quite right. The energy between us was out of balance. I switched to writing on my legal pad, wishing that I too had brought along paper destined for recycling, of which I have plenty! I hadn’t thought to do that. But now that both of us were writing without speaking, there was an immediate shift in the sense of connection between us, as our energies came into better balance. He could read what I wrote well enough. No need to use the laptop.
Maybe it had been good to get the “information-sharing” portion of our communication out of the way more quickly by speaking. (I’m not sure.) But communicating in silence now, the conversation between us immediately deepened to the level that I most cherish with this friend. It was as though leaving aside the surface chatter and allowing the silence to hover around us left more room for our inner experiences to find voice, and more time to fully assimilate what we “heard”. I felt much more deeply connected with my friend and also with myself.
Somehow, when we communicated in this way, the space within me that feels like “channeling” opened and seemed clear. I sensed that I could trust what I felt moved to say, could let it bubble up, through and over to my friend, confident that it was good. And my friend began to communicate from deeper places within him that are usually too delicate and important to be shared. This was so wonderfully rich and nourishing for us both.
There was a sense that something sacred was happening between us, and that it was our silence that made this possible. I can’t say I understand it, but I am still feeling out the implications of this experience. Even now, revisiting the experience in order to describe it, I feel a quickening vibration within me. What an unexpected surprise all this has been.
I am grateful to my friend for having the courage to ask for what he wanted, grateful that he created this opportunity for us to discover the wonder of connecting in silence.