St. Augustine once said that God’s first language is silence. I have always loved this saying and I believe it is true. There is a restfulness in silence and a presence in silence that envelopes me and invites me to be still. In the stillness, something opens up within my whole being. Tension energy drains out of my muscles, tissues and bones. There is a sensation of melting into the silence and discovering that I am not alone in my stillness and silence. I am greeted by Life and I am welcomed by Life into something that is sweet, nourishing and fulfilling.
Silence is a companion and a tonic for the soul.
Recently, I was in the White Mountains in New Hampshire. The silence that greets me in the mountains speaks to me differently than the silence I experience in other environments. The silence of the mountains has a deep resonance that echoes in the crevices of my soul and brings a penetrating comfort. The mountains are a paradox for me. The majesty and size of the mountains are overpowering and evoke a sense of awe in my heart. This is an awe that makes me tingle with the aliveness of beauty and the aliveness of knowing that I am not fully in control. Yet at the same time, I feel the gentle and steadfast silence of the mountains and I am comforted in a way that brings my soul to rest.
I believe that there are times when I need the largeness of the mountains and the echoing silence that they hold in order to come fully home to myself. The mountains invite me to dive deep into silence and to listen.
My message from the White Mountains this month was an invitation to discover my own inner mountain stance. The silence held by the mountains was a silence of pure presence. There was no need for words. Words would only add noise to this utter perfection. The mountains were offering a reminder that there are times when all that is needed from me is the solid, steadfast quiet of pure presence.
At the base of the mountains, I felt embraced and held by their rocky formations. At the top of the mountains, I felt lifted up, supported and able to gain a higher perspective. Whether standing at the foot of these rocky faces, or on top of them, the earth was strong enough to hold me and any of the emotions that were stirring in me. From either stance, the solid, steadfast silence of the rock was helping me embody endurance; the capacity to stand in stillness and wait.
The great mystery of creation spoke to me in that stillness. It was a communication without words, but it brought peace to my inner being. It quieted my questioning and offered me strength to simply stand and wait, trusting that Life cycles will continue to grow, expand and evolve in their own right time.
The silence of nature brings me in harmony with the silence of the Creative force of the Sacred. It always offers me what I need, even if I cannot express it is words. My soul knows it has received a gift from the mountains. My soul knows how to live in harmony with this gift. My job is to allow the messages received in silence to live in me and through me, without trying to explain or rationalize them.
The mountains were teaching me how stand and BE in harmony with the nature of endurance, to have steadfast trust, and to accept the love found in pure presence.
Where do you encounter the Presence of Silence? How could you invite the Presence of Silence to nurture and tend your soul?