Solitude, silence;
Breath and rest for the soul. Come,
Great God; make me whole.
Mariposa Lily
Showing posts with label silence. Show all posts
Showing posts with label silence. Show all posts
May 16, 2012
April 20, 2012
Solitude
Lord Byron
There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
There is rapture on the lonely shore,
There is society where none intrudes
By the deep sea, and music in its roar.
I love not man the less, but nature more,
From these our interviews in which I steal
From all I may be, or have been before;
To mingle with the universe, and feel
What I can ne'er express, yet cannot all conceal.
April 17, 2012
When Poetry Escapes you
by Lydia Daugaard
When poetry escapes you,
And you are stripped of your eloquence,
Robbed of your rhythm
And aching for rhyme...
When life lacks color, and confidence,
And you cannot find words,
But only the end of yourself...
When stillness and silence are not enough
To quiet your heart,
And the light in your eyes is fading
Like the day at dusk...
Be still.
I will still be here,
Patiently waiting for you.
I am yours, beloved,
And you are mine.
February 15, 2012
An Overture Untitled
The world is alive today in swelling fullness,
life upon life upon death.
The clouds were played and arranged
by a string quartet,
and the veiled winter sun
the woodwinds proudly array.
(In my Love, the King,
is all magnificence--)
He opened the heavens,
opened his hands,
and what is invisible poured forth.
If our hearts were but right
we might see!
If our hearts were but right
we might hear!
Or perhaps it is not our lot,
and perhaps it is not our lot.
The symphony surges,
swirls above and throughout
(we keep to our quiet lives).
The triumphal march soars,
sweeping loudly to proclaim
(we keep to our busy lives).
The resonating cello
left its song within my soul.
It sings sweetly and strongly
of sorrow and lament
and a throbbing ache
of strange, unspeakable joy.
The world, my dear,
is alive today,
and the silent love of a King
(life upon life upon death).
life upon life upon death.
The clouds were played and arranged
by a string quartet,
and the veiled winter sun
the woodwinds proudly array.
(In my Love, the King,
is all magnificence--)
He opened the heavens,
opened his hands,
and what is invisible poured forth.
If our hearts were but right
we might see!
If our hearts were but right
we might hear!
Or perhaps it is not our lot,
and perhaps it is not our lot.
The symphony surges,
swirls above and throughout
(we keep to our quiet lives).
The triumphal march soars,
sweeping loudly to proclaim
(we keep to our busy lives).
The resonating cello
left its song within my soul.
It sings sweetly and strongly
of sorrow and lament
and a throbbing ache
of strange, unspeakable joy.
The world, my dear,
is alive today,
and the silent love of a King
(life upon life upon death).
March 21, 2010
Silence, part three
A time of silence, or solitude, is hard to find, and thus a treasure. The idea of it may not sound particularly beautiful--in fact, it may sound (and even feel) uncomfortable. I think it's a good thing anyway, for it is a place to listen to God and exercise trust in Him.
Silence is a place to listen to God.
We see God revealing himself in silence when the prophet Elijah seeks the Lord in order to voice his complaints. Elijah hides behind a rock, and a "great and strong wind" tears the mountains to pieces, "but the Lord was not in the wind." Then there is an earthquake, and a fire, and the Lord is not in these, either.
Both Psalms, read in their entirety (something I would suggest), are a wonderful declaration of trust--a topic I will discuss shortly.
It is often easy to grow frustrated, or complain God is not speaking...perhaps, sometimes, we forget to take time to listen; to quiet our hearts and just be still before Him, resting in His presence.
"Sit down on the bench." I looked at the park bench in the grass and flowers, and I argued. Couldn't I go brush my teeth first? Prepare for class? "Go sit on the bench." Why? Was I supposed to talk to someone passing by after breakfast? "Go sit on the bench." At least let me brush my teeth and come back? (I was a little on the grumpy side, too.) But He was adamant, so I sat. And I waited. I thought maybe there was someone I was supposed to talk to, but everyone passed without even noticing me. And I sat, and waited. Maybe God wanted to talk to me about something, or pray for something. So I waited. I watched the bumblebees as they zoomed among the flowers, and I watched the butterflies floating along calmly, too. And I waited. Now could I go? "Sit on the bench." I must have asked half a dozen times; the answer stayed the same, and I was thoroughly puzzled. So I waited. I let myself enjoy the warm sun and the vivid green of the grass and the busy workings of insects. Finally, He said I could go. I didn't understand; there had been no conversation; no revelation. I shrugged and went about my day.
Doesn't it seem frustrating and pointless at times? Why, God? "Sit on the bench." Only later that day, in the afternoon or evening, did I realize that I had gone about class, the morning, the day,with a completely clear head and fully functioning mind. Gone was the thick, foggy heaviness that made it difficult to think. God doesn't waste anything, much less our time. And sometimes He's just making us exercise obedience and trust, building diligence and habit so we can hear Him next time.
Silence is an exercise in trust. It's uncomfortable sometimes, isn't it? There's not enough time--I'm tired--I have homework--I wanted to talk to so-and-so. There is always so much to do!
In order to pause and be still, we must recognize that God is in control of our lives, not us. He will keep holding the universe together even if I take a break. He will keep the earth spinning on its axis and rotating the earth around the sun without me or even you. Can I then trust Him to my day? Can I stop my runnings-around for a few moments and trust God will not let my world collapse on my shoulders?
In the same passage I quoted earlier, Augustine acknowledges this struggle in his soul.
And in Psalm 62, David tells his soul to wait for God in silence because his hope is from Him; He is his rock and salvation, his fortress (he will not be shaken); His mighty rock, his refuge, is God.
Perhaps you can only manage five minutes a day , and that with much difficulty. I think even this investment will prove to be worth your while if you are consistent.
For this, to me, is the beauty and importance of silence.
Silence is a place to listen to God.
We see God revealing himself in silence when the prophet Elijah seeks the Lord in order to voice his complaints. Elijah hides behind a rock, and a "great and strong wind" tears the mountains to pieces, "but the Lord was not in the wind." Then there is an earthquake, and a fire, and the Lord is not in these, either.
And after the fire the sound of a low whisper. And when Elijah heard it, he wrapped his face in his cloak and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave. And behold, there came a voice to him and said, "What are you doing here, Elijah?" (1 Kings 19:11-13)My Bible has a footnote after "the sound of a low whisper" which reads, "Or a sound, a thin silence. While God has been known to reveal Himself in other ways, sometimes we must wait for the silence. Many of the Psalms speak of being intentionally quiet to wait for the Lord.
For God alone, O my soul, wait in silence,for my hope is from him.(Psalm 62:5)
"Be still, and know that I am God.
I will be exalted among the nations,
I will be exalted in the earth!" (Psalm 46:10)
It is often easy to grow frustrated, or complain God is not speaking...perhaps, sometimes, we forget to take time to listen; to quiet our hearts and just be still before Him, resting in His presence.
Do not be vain, my soul. Do not deafen your heart's ear with the tumult of your vanity. Even you have to listen. The Word himself cries to you to return. There is a place of undisturbed quietness where love is not deserted if it does not itself depart. (Augustine, Confessions, xi:16)Sometimes, we become still before God yet do not hear Him speak, or at least nothing we consider meaningful or even profound. But He still blesses us in these moments for the time and trust given to Him. For instance, when I was teaching English at a camp to students in the Czech Republic, there was one morning in which I felt especially tired and groggy; rather as if I were getting a headache. I'd finished breakfast, and had about half an hour until class started, and was heading across the courtyard to my room when a quiet voice came into my head--more like a thought than a voice.
"Sit down on the bench." I looked at the park bench in the grass and flowers, and I argued. Couldn't I go brush my teeth first? Prepare for class? "Go sit on the bench." Why? Was I supposed to talk to someone passing by after breakfast? "Go sit on the bench." At least let me brush my teeth and come back? (I was a little on the grumpy side, too.) But He was adamant, so I sat. And I waited. I thought maybe there was someone I was supposed to talk to, but everyone passed without even noticing me. And I sat, and waited. Maybe God wanted to talk to me about something, or pray for something. So I waited. I watched the bumblebees as they zoomed among the flowers, and I watched the butterflies floating along calmly, too. And I waited. Now could I go? "Sit on the bench." I must have asked half a dozen times; the answer stayed the same, and I was thoroughly puzzled. So I waited. I let myself enjoy the warm sun and the vivid green of the grass and the busy workings of insects. Finally, He said I could go. I didn't understand; there had been no conversation; no revelation. I shrugged and went about my day.
Doesn't it seem frustrating and pointless at times? Why, God? "Sit on the bench." Only later that day, in the afternoon or evening, did I realize that I had gone about class, the morning, the day,with a completely clear head and fully functioning mind. Gone was the thick, foggy heaviness that made it difficult to think. God doesn't waste anything, much less our time. And sometimes He's just making us exercise obedience and trust, building diligence and habit so we can hear Him next time.
Silence is an exercise in trust. It's uncomfortable sometimes, isn't it? There's not enough time--I'm tired--I have homework--I wanted to talk to so-and-so. There is always so much to do!
In order to pause and be still, we must recognize that God is in control of our lives, not us. He will keep holding the universe together even if I take a break. He will keep the earth spinning on its axis and rotating the earth around the sun without me or even you. Can I then trust Him to my day? Can I stop my runnings-around for a few moments and trust God will not let my world collapse on my shoulders?
In the same passage I quoted earlier, Augustine acknowledges this struggle in his soul.
Do not be vain, my soul. Do not deafen your heart's ear with the tumult of your vanity. Even you have to listen. The Word himself cries to you to return. There is a place of undisturbed quietness where love is not deserted if it does not itself depart. See how these things pass away to give place to others, and how the universe in this lower order is constituted out of all its parts. 'Surely I shall never go anywhere else,' says the word of God. Fix your dwelling there. Put in trust there whatever you have from him, my soul, at least now that you are weared of deceptions. Entrust to the truth whatever has come to you from the truth. You will lose nothing. The decayed parts of you will be healed (Matt. 4:23; Ps. 103:3). All that is ebbing away from you will be given fresh form and renewed, bound tightly to you."
There is beauty in pausing from the rush and hurry and quieting oneself before God, realizing He is the source of everything and in Him everything rests, outside our strivings (please read Matthew 6:25-34). There is a deep and wondrous peace, and through this, joy.Trust in him at all times, O people;pour out your heart before him;God is a refuge for us. (verse 8)
Perhaps you can only manage five minutes a day , and that with much difficulty. I think even this investment will prove to be worth your while if you are consistent.
For this, to me, is the beauty and importance of silence.
February 20, 2010
Silence, part two
Silence is hard to find.
Perhaps I speak only for my fellow suburbanites and other urbanites, but we are constantly being bombarded or at least surrounded by noise.
When was the last time you found silence?
When was the last time you rested in silence? --took a long, deep breath and contented yourself just to be?
Silence can be elusive. It is not just auditory noise that constantly shadows us--focal noises such as people talking, music, etc, or peripheral sounds such as the background noises of roads and highways, the babble of people in public places, or even the hum of electricity or the air conditioner. These auditory sounds are definitely prevalent, but they are not the only noise around us.
There is visual noise, too. Loud billboards, signs, bright lights often flashing or changing, colors, clutter, the double-noise of television, glowing computer screens with endless information and pictures and friends and Facebook...all beckoning, calling for your attention. Then, of course, there are people, too, and colors and clothing, faces smiling, stressed, relaying drama or hopes or fears...all looking for someone to listen. Visual noise crowding our sight so it is often difficult to focus attention even on one person, one sign, one object. Even the calm of night is disrupted by the city's need to see and know all things all the time (or so they try): often the sky at my home is a peculiar shade of dark orange. This even late at night, when all things are supposed to be dark, and we ought to see stars.
There is the noise of motion all around. I am in motion; you are in motion; the world is spinning, but we don't have to be...at least not all the time. The highway becomes a roaring blur of vehicles. The sidewalks and shopping malls are full of people interested more in point B than point A, but maybe point C is what you're really looking for...and the same for buses, trains and airplanes. Sometimes it doesn't matter where you're going as long as you're going. Do we think if we keep enough motion with enough speed and constancy, we must create the illusion of a sense of purpose? Or are we moving because the more places we go, the less purpose we find? Do we move because it's so easy that if point A isn't fulfilling, or quite what we wanted, it's simple enough to jump over to point B and give that a try, after which point C just might be a better option? We fill our lives with so many things and appointments and places to go that a certain amount of constant motion is necessary. And if we keep going and don't let ourselves stop, maybe we won't realize that we're getting tired and worn down, like a car wheel in constant use, and if we don't realize it, we won't have to rest.
Resting often feels unnatural; uncomfortable.
We're too used to the hurry.
Maybe sometimes we forget that we were meant to slow down every once in a while...
that it's okay to rest; to take a break...
to breathe.
Maybe.
Now. I'm not saying that noise is inherently wrong. I don't think it is. I believe we were made to enjoy the rich colors and textures of the world, and light, and people. They are good. And sound, too--the ability to communicate through conversation is good, and I think we should be able to appreciate music, and the noises of nature and humankind. Motion, too, has its place. Without motion, we should find it hard to accomplish things or go anywhere.
Motion is necessary.
But I think this noise becomes a distraction--especially when they become constants from which it is difficult to escape. Have you tried to find silence? Have you tried it in the midst of suburbia, or the midst of the city? It's hard. But still important.
Not only is it good to slow down and breathe; relax and renew, but it is vitally important to take time to quiet the soul and rest in God. Oh, yes--time. Time, too, feels elusive, doesn't it? You never have enough; always busy with something, never enough hours in a day, etc, etc. Oh, I know. I know. But all of us have exactly the same amount of time available to us, and believe it or not, you can control the time you're given. Dictate your schedule a bit rather than letting it fully dicate you. This sounds harsh, but I suggest that it is worthwhile--necessary, even, to move your schedule around a bit to set aside time for silence. Time to just be.
Isn't "quiet time" enough? A few minutes with God snatched here and there? Yes and no, I think. The problem is, many of us (I, too, am guilty) try to organize and manage time with God the way we try to manage our homework, classes, appointments and meetings. Not always. But sometimes. It's also easy to get impatient, thinking about all the things I have to do. "Sorry, God; I have too much homework. Only ten minutes today." Sometimes I even deny Him those ten paltry minutes.
I have let the things of the world become distractions which clutter my mind, and I mix up my priorities. Since when is homework more important than God? Since when is my social life more important than God? They are important, no doubt, but God existed long, long before any of these material things did, and He will exist far beyond them. It is in God, not homework, that I "live and move and have [my] being." (Acts 18:28) It is God who created me, and did so for a specific purpose. Thus, my reason for living should be purely Him, not homework or friends. And it is He who determines my life, that I should live from one day to the next, and how I shall live those days. And when this world fades, He is the One who will remain forever. Anything else that remains will do so solely in Him.
My priorities get so distressingly skewed.
God is worth the time set aside for Him.
I can only pray for strength to set aside this time for, by myself, I can do nothing.
Again, God is worth the time set aside for Him.
In my next post, I will focus more on beauty of silence specifically.
Perhaps I speak only for my fellow suburbanites and other urbanites, but we are constantly being bombarded or at least surrounded by noise.
When was the last time you found silence?
When was the last time you rested in silence? --took a long, deep breath and contented yourself just to be?
Silence can be elusive. It is not just auditory noise that constantly shadows us--focal noises such as people talking, music, etc, or peripheral sounds such as the background noises of roads and highways, the babble of people in public places, or even the hum of electricity or the air conditioner. These auditory sounds are definitely prevalent, but they are not the only noise around us.
There is visual noise, too. Loud billboards, signs, bright lights often flashing or changing, colors, clutter, the double-noise of television, glowing computer screens with endless information and pictures and friends and Facebook...all beckoning, calling for your attention. Then, of course, there are people, too, and colors and clothing, faces smiling, stressed, relaying drama or hopes or fears...all looking for someone to listen. Visual noise crowding our sight so it is often difficult to focus attention even on one person, one sign, one object. Even the calm of night is disrupted by the city's need to see and know all things all the time (or so they try): often the sky at my home is a peculiar shade of dark orange. This even late at night, when all things are supposed to be dark, and we ought to see stars.
There is the noise of motion all around. I am in motion; you are in motion; the world is spinning, but we don't have to be...at least not all the time. The highway becomes a roaring blur of vehicles. The sidewalks and shopping malls are full of people interested more in point B than point A, but maybe point C is what you're really looking for...and the same for buses, trains and airplanes. Sometimes it doesn't matter where you're going as long as you're going. Do we think if we keep enough motion with enough speed and constancy, we must create the illusion of a sense of purpose? Or are we moving because the more places we go, the less purpose we find? Do we move because it's so easy that if point A isn't fulfilling, or quite what we wanted, it's simple enough to jump over to point B and give that a try, after which point C just might be a better option? We fill our lives with so many things and appointments and places to go that a certain amount of constant motion is necessary. And if we keep going and don't let ourselves stop, maybe we won't realize that we're getting tired and worn down, like a car wheel in constant use, and if we don't realize it, we won't have to rest.
Resting often feels unnatural; uncomfortable.
We're too used to the hurry.
Maybe sometimes we forget that we were meant to slow down every once in a while...
that it's okay to rest; to take a break...
to breathe.
Maybe.
Now. I'm not saying that noise is inherently wrong. I don't think it is. I believe we were made to enjoy the rich colors and textures of the world, and light, and people. They are good. And sound, too--the ability to communicate through conversation is good, and I think we should be able to appreciate music, and the noises of nature and humankind. Motion, too, has its place. Without motion, we should find it hard to accomplish things or go anywhere.
Motion is necessary.
But I think this noise becomes a distraction--especially when they become constants from which it is difficult to escape. Have you tried to find silence? Have you tried it in the midst of suburbia, or the midst of the city? It's hard. But still important.
Not only is it good to slow down and breathe; relax and renew, but it is vitally important to take time to quiet the soul and rest in God. Oh, yes--time. Time, too, feels elusive, doesn't it? You never have enough; always busy with something, never enough hours in a day, etc, etc. Oh, I know. I know. But all of us have exactly the same amount of time available to us, and believe it or not, you can control the time you're given. Dictate your schedule a bit rather than letting it fully dicate you. This sounds harsh, but I suggest that it is worthwhile--necessary, even, to move your schedule around a bit to set aside time for silence. Time to just be.
Isn't "quiet time" enough? A few minutes with God snatched here and there? Yes and no, I think. The problem is, many of us (I, too, am guilty) try to organize and manage time with God the way we try to manage our homework, classes, appointments and meetings. Not always. But sometimes. It's also easy to get impatient, thinking about all the things I have to do. "Sorry, God; I have too much homework. Only ten minutes today." Sometimes I even deny Him those ten paltry minutes.
I have let the things of the world become distractions which clutter my mind, and I mix up my priorities. Since when is homework more important than God? Since when is my social life more important than God? They are important, no doubt, but God existed long, long before any of these material things did, and He will exist far beyond them. It is in God, not homework, that I "live and move and have [my] being." (Acts 18:28) It is God who created me, and did so for a specific purpose. Thus, my reason for living should be purely Him, not homework or friends. And it is He who determines my life, that I should live from one day to the next, and how I shall live those days. And when this world fades, He is the One who will remain forever. Anything else that remains will do so solely in Him.
My priorities get so distressingly skewed.
God is worth the time set aside for Him.
I can only pray for strength to set aside this time for, by myself, I can do nothing.
Again, God is worth the time set aside for Him.
In my next post, I will focus more on beauty of silence specifically.
January 31, 2010
Silence, part one
I wrote this last March in the midst of busy schedule, and have been thinking once more about the need for silence. The format is a little goofy, but I had fun with it ;).
Now
When the world spins wildly, madly
as it is apt to do,
and your whirling mind and whirling days
are full of books to meet and people to read
decisions to end and highways to travel
pages to fill and battles to endure
strength to find and lose and hope to keep
and worries and fears and responsibilities and
expectations, anticipations, conversations--
take this handful of minutes
being now (even if
every now you see is
full) take these shining silver minutes
to soak in
the silence
to savor
the silence
the silence that is the
drumming patter of rain on the windows and roof
the murmurings and talkings of people in other rooms
the motor-noises of busy people speeding on nearby streets
the whispering shuddering moaning of a lonely wind
the dim buzzing of lights the thin invisible wire of high-frequency electricity
the nearly forgotten slow steady pumping and beating of your not unimportant heart
quiet
noises blending into
your silence
rest in this silence
let your mind slow
to match its pace
to understand
to see and discover and digest
to wrap around this quiet
take the handful of pebbles
being minutes
take only the handful in now
and wrap yourself
temporarily
in some still
quiet form
of silence
.
Now
When the world spins wildly, madly
as it is apt to do,
and your whirling mind and whirling days
are full of books to meet and people to read
decisions to end and highways to travel
pages to fill and battles to endure
strength to find and lose and hope to keep
and worries and fears and responsibilities and
expectations, anticipations, conversations--
take this handful of minutes
being now (even if
every now you see is
full) take these shining silver minutes
to soak in
the silence
to savor
the silence
the silence that is the
drumming patter of rain on the windows and roof
the murmurings and talkings of people in other rooms
the motor-noises of busy people speeding on nearby streets
the whispering shuddering moaning of a lonely wind
the dim buzzing of lights the thin invisible wire of high-frequency electricity
the nearly forgotten slow steady pumping and beating of your not unimportant heart
quiet
noises blending into
your silence
rest in this silence
let your mind slow
to match its pace
to understand
to see and discover and digest
to wrap around this quiet
take the handful of pebbles
being minutes
take only the handful in now
and wrap yourself
temporarily
in some still
quiet form
of silence
.
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