I had a couple of conversations this week on the twin topics of silence and solitude. Some of us were also engaged in the more general topic of rest and how we need that space to tune our bodies, minds, and souls. Our bodies, minds, and souls are easily thrown out of tune.

I have approached these things in many different ways over the years. I’ve tried stuff, abandoned stuff, read stuff, learned stuff, and the list goes on. Silence and solitude are a big deal to me and but by no means am I content that I’ve got them down pat.

Maybe I’ll start our here by putting it like this: The issue is space.

Imagine your closet. Now, some people like a lot of what we now call clutter. Lots of stuff jammed together, all over the place. Of course, maybe the owner has such a keen understanding of where everything is, there is no effort to get right to the intended target. But, some have to spend inordinate energy sifting through everything. On the other hand, some people are so concerned about neatness that inordinate energy is expended just being OCD.

I think this is a very poor but slightly suitable metaphor for how we approach our lives. How messy are our lives? How much stuff do we have going on all of the time? Working people, parents, etc… face an extraordinary amount of demand for attention and productivity. Older or retired people may get a break from much of that but many of them face the opposite: They lack purpose because they don’t have much of value going on.

I can’t count the number of articles I’ve read on the things people pay attention to and how they go about doing that. Noise. Attention spans. Bandwidth. Drinking information out of a firehose. Our children have basically always known the digital age. It’s not a stretch for me (an avid explorer, seeking knowledge) to remember going to the family bookshelves to search through our encyclopedia set or to the library to look through the card catalog and the various print indexes. Horse and buggy now. We’re connected 24/7 through all sorts of information highways, pumping us full of stuff all of the time. And, yes, I don’t know how many articles I’ve read on how there’s a direct correspondence between this fact and the massively elevated levels of anxiety and stress. Lots.

Our bodies, minds, and souls are easily thrown out of tune.

Efforts to quiet the din, slow things down, relax and get off the treadmill are nothing new. The theory is not rocket science but to the extent we’re regularly successful at it, it might as well be.

To me, the formula is rather simple. First, we need to recognize the value of quieting the noise. In other words, what’s the point? Second, we need to resolve that it’s a priority. And, third, we need to have the will (intention, commitment) to actually begin changing our behavior, even if it’s bit by bit. Three things.

It’s one thing to sort of think that things like silence and solitude might be of benefit but it’s quite another to actually believe it. After all, who among us has regularly experienced these things and connected them to observable results over the long haul? Silence and solitude are not the stuff of modern life. Lord knows they have a lot of competition for our attention.

Then, it’s one thing to sort of think it’s probably important to create time and space for this stuff and it’s quite another to elevate its priority substantially.

Finally, it’s one the thing to think it’s important, another thing to mark it as a high priority and an entirely different thing to actually follow through.

I am definitely not good at many things. Car repair for instance. Many (most?) guys are pretty conversant about the things that make cars run well. I like well-running cars, at least for the fact that I fear when they don’t run well I won’t know exactly what to do other than to hope we’re not on a long road trip. I’m also not very good at paying attention sometimes. I’m sure I was undiagnosed ADD, of the inattentive (not hyperactive) sort. The mind just floats away. Some of my staff used to just sit back and say to themselves, “Brad just shut down. We’ll wait until he powers back up.” Usually took about 30 seconds or so. I could go on a lot about the things I’m not good at.

However, when it comes to solitude and silence, I’ve grown over the years and learned a thing or two. I’m a believer. Certainly, it’s been a process of two steps forward and one back … or maybe vice versa for awhile. Certainly, it was a great challenge when I was working at redline and felt like I shouldered the responsibility for hundreds and thousands of people’s welfare. I used to think of my brain at times as a playground for a whole lot of hamsters, running incessantly on those little caged wheels, churning away, spinning out problems, issues, thoughts, concerns, anxieties and all sorts of stuff. Maybe that hasn’t happened to you. 🙂  2am, 4am. Didn’t matter. Commute time. Go, go, go. For what it’s worth, I still have hamsters.

Maybe I was fortunate at a young age to go camping a lot. Hiking. Backpacking. Riding bikes deep into the hills outside of our suburban neighborhoods. Later, cross country skiing, with Diane or friends or even alone. Off in the silence of a forest, bathed in new snow, only the sound of the breeze in the trees or, perhaps, clumps of snow falling from their limbs. Little rivulets of trickling brooks, with sunlight glancing off the whites and blues and greens and browns. Sitting on a log in the sub-freezing cold but with the right gear providing warmth, as we snacked, chatted together or when I just sat alone on those occasions when I was by myself. I can’t remember ever being anxious about anything then. I felt part of something much greater than the everyday reality of to-do lists and incessant voices expecting results.

Maybe I was also fortunate to become acquainted with classical music at a very young age. It was played in our home and I acquired quite a taste for it as a violinist. When occasions warrant, I am at home with a playlist of quiet piano music running in the background. I am listening in that way now, while my thoughts wander and alight on a thing, while my eyes can also see through our large front window, noticing the billowing post-storm white clouds traveling slowly across the deep blue sky, sun defining their shapes as they constantly change. In the foreground is our relatively new garden, white roses abloom, surrounded by the natural colors of shrubs and trees and succulents, each reflecting the sun and touched by that gentle breeze.

At the moment, my body, mind and soul are not entirely out of tune.

I am not unaware of all of the things pressing for my attention, many of which are certainly more than deserving. But, the peace that comes with the relative quiet is like a reintroduction of fuel into the tank.

In fact, the value of this kind of thing is much greater than I’ve mentioned so far. But, that may need to be exposed separately.

I have learned from people much wiser than I that old habits die hard and new habits are often just as hard to develop. But, that work can be done and it pays off royally. Start by rethinking the thing and then taking the smallest steps going forward.

I said near the beginning that the issue was one of space. Each of us needs to figure out how to create that space. If it’s a priority, we’ll do just that. When embraced in moderation, the twin practices of silence and solitude are healthy habits and our bodies, minds and souls will be most grateful. Blessings.