I have been thinking about different forms of silence. There are natural and "unnatural" forms of silence, There is a transcendent silence, There is silence as metaphor...Destructive silence, obstructive and judging silence, fearful silence, loving and healing silences...the silence that implies stillness...
The mandated quarantines and lockdowns when in full force give rise to both unnatural and natural silence. In the earlier days of lockdown, I wrote about the unexpected return of natural sounds (and sights!) brought about by human withdrawal. Much of that receded as people, cars, and machines returned to the streets. Within our homes, particularly for people who live alone, the sounds and sights of T.V., radio, phone conversations, recorded and live Zoom or podcast programing--all provide human voices, images, and movement that create a kind of emotional and physical reassurance to our senses. Instinctively, we feel all is well; we are in the company of others. It's important to remember that human beings are social creatures and in times of danger, we naturally seek companionship and the reinforcement of tribe protection, even if by facsimile. Constant dead silence in a room or dwelling place, seems unnatural.
So it may seem paradoxical that we seek silence through meditation, and yet it is a tremendously healthy and satisfying activity, if we approach it also as natural. There are many way to define meditation and meditation is not always about silence. But one way to see silent meditation is to consider it as a natural, periodic disengagement from a world of sensory stimulation and cultural demands. There is a naturalness to interpersonal, mutual support and a naturalness to individual awareness of our own, unique "bio-system" of spiritual sustenance. This means that you learn to trust that your body and your mind know how to open to the silent transcendent outpouring and individual intake of spiritual silence.
In time, you begin to have the experience of this silence, "descending upon" you, at unexpected times, and in unexpected places beyond your meditation practice. The silence, draws you into itself, into stillness, to bring whatever is needed in the moment.
Eventually you realize, as one early Buddhist nun put it, "The feast of meditation never ends".
(Susan Nettleton)