“True silence is the rest of the mind and is to the spirit what sleep is to the body, nourishment and refreshment.” – William Penn
The Peaceful Silence
Sometimes, I wake up and it’s quiet. So still and silent. (Not totally though, that would be unnatural, unnerving, probably indicating something is very wrong.) I mean the kind of silence where the only sound you hear is at the periphery of your mind—distant noises that blend into the stillness, gently giving it a natural tranquility.
Silence in the morning, when you’re privileged enough to wake up to the distant sounds of birds, a slight rustle of leaves in the soft, gentle wind. Silence, when the bombardment of daily noises is missing. Noise pollution, which we’ve all become so accustomed to, is momentarily stilled.
The Calm Within
The quiet of the world allows us to reflect, make peace within ourselves, and sort out the clutter in our minds and hearts. But when that quiet is shattered, and we’re bombarded with loud, unnatural sounds, it feels as though our spirits grow weary. The noise invades our senses, leaving little room for coherent thought or peace. That’s when we yearn for more natural sounds—the chirping of birds, the distant laughter of children, the soft breeze, or the gentle waves nudging the shore.
Silence That Signals Danger
There’s another kind of silence—the kind that signals danger. It’s the eerie calm before the storm. I remember living in the Caribbean, where I experienced my first hurricane. The preparation, the frantic stocking of supplies, and the hammering of shutters on windows.
Hurricanes come in three parts: the initial onslaught, the eye, and the final part, which often comes with more fury. The eye of the hurricane was the most unsettling. After the winds and rain came an unnerving silence. No sounds, not even from the animals. It was so unnaturally still, I felt suffocated by it. The air was thick with apprehension. Then, just as quickly as it arrived, the storm returned with more anger and destruction.
Nature’s Power and Our Vulnerability
Experiences like this make you realize just how small we are compared to the power of nature. To witness nature reclaiming everything without compassion is humbling. But surviving it brings immense gratitude.
When I think back to that silence, a silence I never wish to experience again, I appreciate all the other types of quiet—those that bring peace and calm in our chaotic world. The silence in our hearts when all is well, when I feel content, at peace, and walk with a spring in my step, grateful for the gentle side of nature.