The (Scary) Sound of Silence

If you’re like most folks, you’re caught up in a perpetualtailspin.  A crammed diary filled withmeeting after meeting with barely enough time to shove in a lukewarm sandwichin-between, or after school activities for the kids, school run, volunteeractivities, endless lists of chores that only seem to get longer andlonger. 

The first response to the question “How are you?” is typicallysomething in the order of, “I’ve just been so busy!  There’s just never enough time to get everythingdone!” or my personal favorite “Frazzled!” 

Or maybe this is just the strange universe I hang outin.  Never having been one to jump on thebandwagon, folks often look confused when I don’t respond back inagreement.  I’ve often wondered if thereis something wrong with me.

When I lived in the UK, making it into someone’s personaldiary was a point of distinction, a barrier to be overcome, as spots in it weretightly guarded and highly coveted. Brits in general, not being as spontaneous as their American cousinsacross the pond, tend to respond to the question of “when should we gettogether again,” with things like – “let me check my diary and get back toyou.  The next three months are mad, justmad!” (Mind you, this could also be their subtle and polite way of blowingannoying Americans off, but typically we’re too stupid to notice this.)

But while we might, on the surface, spend a lot of timecomplaining about this busy thing, I’ve often wondered if deep down we secretlylike it.  Perhaps being busy has becomethe new badge of honor, a justification for our existence.  If we are busy, we are doing something withour lives.  Our life must have somemeaning, some deep purpose, something greater than taking out the trash andwatching the next season of Ozarks on Netflix, thrilling though it may be.

I myself have even reveled in this practice from time to time,secretly gloating to myself that I have so many client engagements on myschedule that it would be impossible for me to meet with such and such person forthe next couple of months.

Well, not anymore, thanks to Corona virus.

So here’s the question, in a life that’s filled withactivity after activity, what do you do with yourself when the tailspin finallyends and sound of silence finally comes?

I mean, you can only rearrange your closet and shop on amazon so much. 

I was talking to a friend of mine the other day, who livesin Orange County, CA.  The eternaloptimist, she mused that perhaps this might be a good opportunity for societyto finally slow down, and smell the proverbial roses, so to speak. 

The eternal realist that I am reminded her that many of us(present company included) will most likely lose work, maybe even their jobs,and these days will be filled with worry and anxiety of what to do after thelock-down lifts. 

But the more I think about it, the more I do realize thatmaybe she’s on to something. 

But sitting in the quiet with ourselves is typicallysomething that many of us go to great lengths to avoid.  I recall the one and only time Iinadvertently signed up for a two-week meditation retreat, under the mistakenimpression that the event was a learning workshop.  It was called a “datum” and having no ideawhat that word meant and too lazy to google it, I was horrified to find outthat it consisted of 12 hours a day of meditating on a smelly mat.

After having counted every speck of dander on the dirtyfloor and making judgmental comments in my head about my fellow woo-woomeditators, by day 3 I was ready to claw my eyes out.  And then something really amazinghappened.  Just when I thought itcouldn’t get any worse, there was an amazing feeling of peace and calm thatwashed over me.  A serenity that is hardto describe, I’d never felt anything quite like it.

And haven’t since - It ended a day later, and there I wasback on the smelly meditation mat.  Andwhile I’ve never been crazy enough to sign up for another meditation retreat,it does beg the question, what lies on the other side of silence, if we arewilling to sit with it?