STILLNESS: What Silence Makes Room For
The Space Between
When I began fly fishing a few decades ago, one of the most brilliant things I noticed was the sound of the river—the water flowing smoothly by and around me, the wind whistling through the trees, the bloop of a fish eating off the surface followed by a little splash, all happening before I could see anything at all.
Unlike the observer-like experience of bait fishing, fly fishing put me right there, inside the river. Among the fish and rocks. In the life force of air and water.
And that experience washed over me the deepest peace I had ever known.
I could not have imagined or thought or even dreamed my way into that peace.
Because silence isn't empty.
It's spacious.
Hearing Yourself Again
Spending time in silence and in nature offers a place where mind, body, and spirit can come back together.
Without constant input, we may begin noticing things that have been there all along: I'm tired. I'm angry. I'm lonely. I'm happy. Something hurts. I miss someone. I don't actually want this anymore. I need rest. I want something different.
We often imagine self-awareness as something we accomplish through more thinking, journaling, reading, therapy, coaching, or conversation. Those things can be enormously valuable.
But sometimes awareness arrives because we finally stop adding information long enough to hear what is already there.
Silence doesn't necessarily give us answers.
Sometimes it simply gives the answers room to surface.
Practice: Create a Pocket of Silence
Choose one ordinary part of your day and leave it intentionally unfilled.
Morning coffee. Your commute. A shower or bath. Walking the dog. Cooking dinner. Sitting outside before bed.
Ten minutes is enough.
Don't make silence another wellness assignment you have to perform correctly. Simply create a small opening and see what enters.
You don't need to find anything.
Just make room.
Take This With You
We spend so much of our lives searching for answers.
Sometimes the quieter practice is to stop searching for a moment.
Listen to the room. Listen to the trees. Listen to your breath. Listen to your body.
And perhaps, beneath all that noise, you'll hear something familiar.
Yourself.