I love creating in silence, as much as is possible in our world these days. I also have written several guest articles recently (yet to be published) where I discuss the benefits of getting away from urban environments and going for a hike in the great outdoors. There’s been numerous studies which have proven the benefits this has on our minds and reduces the likelihood of mental health problems or can help reduce the severity of them. It’s interesting how the quiet of being in nature can help restore our minds and release the tension from our bodies. I know I used to always wear headphones, listening to music, when I was moving around the city, heading to or from work, walking the streets and checking out the architecture of the houses (I’ve always been interested in this), and so on. I reached a point where I became tired of being plugged in all the time. I became sensitive to noise (it’s still a problem—whenever visitors come they always turn my TV volume up and I need to get them to turn it back down a little because it physically hurts my ears), and these days I prefer the hum of my refrigerator to having music playing. I’m better able to let the words within me flow out onto the screen before me in a quiet location. Silence is a powerful thing!
Hope you publish your articles! I love the "hush" you describe your life with. It's inspiring. I think we turn the volume up and create new norms, not even realizing it. Here's to the hushed life! Silence is a powerful thing ...
While walking my dog, I've come to realize that in addition to allowing me to hear my own thoughts, it serves to amplify my other senses; I can marvel at the vast variety of bird song, see the sudden flash of green unfolding on the heretofore bare branches of trees, smell the damp of evening or morning mist, feel the radiant heat of the sun breaking through. We miss out on so much when we fail to fall silent and appreciate, in the true sense of the word, life's gifts in all their many forms that abound.
Love this description of your dog walks. I've been trying to "unplug" on mine as well. I don't read anything on my phone now, but I often listen to music--choral music, though. But I agree: it's better to completely unplug. I love those moments like the ones you describe: when you feel all of the world's lyricism. I'll think of this on tomorrow morning's dog walk.
By all means, do unplug! There's an enormous wealth of sensory info out there to enjoy, all of which will sustain us as we sit down to render the world in our writing.
Thanks for this column, Grant. I am convinced that silence is the other side of language and that language and silence are bedfellows. You've inspired me to think about writing about my starting to study Zen when I was becoming a writer. Some of it was just interest and a sense of being drawn to the writings. But I also had the sense that if I could live with silence, it would help me find the words I wanted, words that don't come from a "chattering mind." (Gee, I've already started to write about it--see what magic your writing about silene has?)
I want to read this from you! I agree about language and silence being bedfellows. I was thinking today about moments when people "speak" in silence instead of words. Sometimes the silence becomes a weapon, or it's ungenerous, yet silence can also be the best discourse that is possible (i.e., when words are lacking, when words bumble and spill and just make things worse). I like the Miles Davis quote: "It's not about the notes you play. It's about the notes you don't play." A good Zen koan. Let me know if you write this essay ....
I love your thoughts on silence! I for one cannot tolerate earbuds of head phones, they put too much noise into my head. The “noises of the home, heaters, clock ticking, geese honking outside as they arrive for spring, are comforting and undemanding and predictable, water flowing as I wash the dishes. That is when the words to put on paper can’t wait to rush out.
Thanks so much! Love your metaphor for the noises of the home as "water flowing." It's a magical moment, just to be present with the noises in the silence.
Grant, this is just beautiful and so profound (at least the main written part; then you become hilarious with your "because a photo" finisher). I was just thinking about silence recently: I thought about how now that I live in a small mountain town, I experience true silence in nature all the time, and how every other place I've lived has had some kind of background racket going on that threatened to suck me into the very loud World of Noise. I like to write in perfect silence, hearing nothing but the sound of my keyboard and the occasional friendly bark of a neighbor's dog.
How interesting. It's like the light of a city that diminishes the light of the stars. We really do hear so much "other stuff" in the course of an urban day. How nice to hear all of the sounds around you as you write. An orchestra!
"we so rarely seek or trust the empty or silent moments of our lives." There's a lot packed in there. I especially like the word, "trust" (to rely on or to place confidence in) in the silent moments. How we let go in the name of an absence of something.
Thanks for bringing this up, Nancy. I think "trust" is a key word because I think we've all been increasingly trained in "the bustle"--this is, we need to feel action, noise, etc., as a proof that we're making things happen, etc.
“People define silence nowadays as putting in their ear buds—shutting out the world with other noises as opposed to breathing in the quiet peace of stillness.”
So true!! Our world has become so noisy, especially with so many screens and people talking simultaneously!
On another note, I quoted you in my March newsletter about nightmares. 😊
Unfortunately, "people" often includes me. I think I'm going to come up with a strategy to better indulge in my own silences. Especially in the morning. I feel like there's a power of a candle in the darkness.
And ... wow, I'm headed your newsletter's way to see my quote ... about nightmares!
I think silence, and boredom, are so important for creativity. If you are constantly receiving input, how do you create output? Plus it just is anxiety producing for me. I'm a runner and people marvel at the fact I don't listen to music or podcasts or audiobooks while I run. I need that one guaranteed time of my day of zero human-created input other than the sound of my breathing and footsteps.
So inspiring, Erin. There's definitely friction or blockage where the input cancels the potential output. I'm glad you thought of boredom, because I think our boredom serves a key creative function: if we allow ourselves to be bored, our thoughts will naturally produce stories, etc.
I run with music, but you've inspired me to focus on those beautiful running sounds that are created in the silence.
I love this. Just the title alone makes me breathe. My favorite time is early in the morning when I am the only one awake and the house truly is very quiet.
Enjoy the Silence by Depeche Mode I think meant more to me than it was supposed to.
I’m a sincere and severe fan of silence. I bought expensive Bose noise canceling headphones and being non techie, I couldn’t figure out why they weren’t shutting out all the noise. My fiancé laughed and explained they were meant to be used to shut out outside noise in exchange for me to listen to music. That’s not what I wanted at all, and I was really upset, so I gave them to one of my kids.
The quieter my environment, the louder my inner world of creativity.
One of the most silent places I have been is Panamint Valley in the California desert. Will never forget the silence and the stars like dust. Contemplation.
I love creating in silence, as much as is possible in our world these days. I also have written several guest articles recently (yet to be published) where I discuss the benefits of getting away from urban environments and going for a hike in the great outdoors. There’s been numerous studies which have proven the benefits this has on our minds and reduces the likelihood of mental health problems or can help reduce the severity of them. It’s interesting how the quiet of being in nature can help restore our minds and release the tension from our bodies. I know I used to always wear headphones, listening to music, when I was moving around the city, heading to or from work, walking the streets and checking out the architecture of the houses (I’ve always been interested in this), and so on. I reached a point where I became tired of being plugged in all the time. I became sensitive to noise (it’s still a problem—whenever visitors come they always turn my TV volume up and I need to get them to turn it back down a little because it physically hurts my ears), and these days I prefer the hum of my refrigerator to having music playing. I’m better able to let the words within me flow out onto the screen before me in a quiet location. Silence is a powerful thing!
Hope you publish your articles! I love the "hush" you describe your life with. It's inspiring. I think we turn the volume up and create new norms, not even realizing it. Here's to the hushed life! Silence is a powerful thing ...
While walking my dog, I've come to realize that in addition to allowing me to hear my own thoughts, it serves to amplify my other senses; I can marvel at the vast variety of bird song, see the sudden flash of green unfolding on the heretofore bare branches of trees, smell the damp of evening or morning mist, feel the radiant heat of the sun breaking through. We miss out on so much when we fail to fall silent and appreciate, in the true sense of the word, life's gifts in all their many forms that abound.
Love this description of your dog walks. I've been trying to "unplug" on mine as well. I don't read anything on my phone now, but I often listen to music--choral music, though. But I agree: it's better to completely unplug. I love those moments like the ones you describe: when you feel all of the world's lyricism. I'll think of this on tomorrow morning's dog walk.
By all means, do unplug! There's an enormous wealth of sensory info out there to enjoy, all of which will sustain us as we sit down to render the world in our writing.
Thanks for this column, Grant. I am convinced that silence is the other side of language and that language and silence are bedfellows. You've inspired me to think about writing about my starting to study Zen when I was becoming a writer. Some of it was just interest and a sense of being drawn to the writings. But I also had the sense that if I could live with silence, it would help me find the words I wanted, words that don't come from a "chattering mind." (Gee, I've already started to write about it--see what magic your writing about silene has?)
I want to read this from you! I agree about language and silence being bedfellows. I was thinking today about moments when people "speak" in silence instead of words. Sometimes the silence becomes a weapon, or it's ungenerous, yet silence can also be the best discourse that is possible (i.e., when words are lacking, when words bumble and spill and just make things worse). I like the Miles Davis quote: "It's not about the notes you play. It's about the notes you don't play." A good Zen koan. Let me know if you write this essay ....
I love your thoughts on silence! I for one cannot tolerate earbuds of head phones, they put too much noise into my head. The “noises of the home, heaters, clock ticking, geese honking outside as they arrive for spring, are comforting and undemanding and predictable, water flowing as I wash the dishes. That is when the words to put on paper can’t wait to rush out.
Thanks so much! Love your metaphor for the noises of the home as "water flowing." It's a magical moment, just to be present with the noises in the silence.
Yes.
Grant, this is just beautiful and so profound (at least the main written part; then you become hilarious with your "because a photo" finisher). I was just thinking about silence recently: I thought about how now that I live in a small mountain town, I experience true silence in nature all the time, and how every other place I've lived has had some kind of background racket going on that threatened to suck me into the very loud World of Noise. I like to write in perfect silence, hearing nothing but the sound of my keyboard and the occasional friendly bark of a neighbor's dog.
How interesting. It's like the light of a city that diminishes the light of the stars. We really do hear so much "other stuff" in the course of an urban day. How nice to hear all of the sounds around you as you write. An orchestra!
[ ] My silent smile reading this. Thank you.
Thank you! I whisper ...
"we so rarely seek or trust the empty or silent moments of our lives." There's a lot packed in there. I especially like the word, "trust" (to rely on or to place confidence in) in the silent moments. How we let go in the name of an absence of something.
Thanks for bringing this up, Nancy. I think "trust" is a key word because I think we've all been increasingly trained in "the bustle"--this is, we need to feel action, noise, etc., as a proof that we're making things happen, etc.
“Take a walk at night, and walk so silently that the bottoms of your feet become ears.” Love this.
“People define silence nowadays as putting in their ear buds—shutting out the world with other noises as opposed to breathing in the quiet peace of stillness.”
So true!! Our world has become so noisy, especially with so many screens and people talking simultaneously!
On another note, I quoted you in my March newsletter about nightmares. 😊
Unfortunately, "people" often includes me. I think I'm going to come up with a strategy to better indulge in my own silences. Especially in the morning. I feel like there's a power of a candle in the darkness.
And ... wow, I'm headed your newsletter's way to see my quote ... about nightmares!
I think silence, and boredom, are so important for creativity. If you are constantly receiving input, how do you create output? Plus it just is anxiety producing for me. I'm a runner and people marvel at the fact I don't listen to music or podcasts or audiobooks while I run. I need that one guaranteed time of my day of zero human-created input other than the sound of my breathing and footsteps.
So inspiring, Erin. There's definitely friction or blockage where the input cancels the potential output. I'm glad you thought of boredom, because I think our boredom serves a key creative function: if we allow ourselves to be bored, our thoughts will naturally produce stories, etc.
I run with music, but you've inspired me to focus on those beautiful running sounds that are created in the silence.
I love this. Just the title alone makes me breathe. My favorite time is early in the morning when I am the only one awake and the house truly is very quiet.
Thanks, Christy. That is my cherished hour as well. A sacred hour, in fact.
Enjoy the Silence by Depeche Mode I think meant more to me than it was supposed to.
I’m a sincere and severe fan of silence. I bought expensive Bose noise canceling headphones and being non techie, I couldn’t figure out why they weren’t shutting out all the noise. My fiancé laughed and explained they were meant to be used to shut out outside noise in exchange for me to listen to music. That’s not what I wanted at all, and I was really upset, so I gave them to one of my kids.
The quieter my environment, the louder my inner world of creativity.
One of the most silent places I have been is Panamint Valley in the California desert. Will never forget the silence and the stars like dust. Contemplation.