Do you hear that? Do you hear your own heartbeat? No. What do you hear, then? Nothing. Do you hear the slug running that is at your feet? How is it that you hear these things? How is that you do not?
There is silence that cannot speak. There is silence that will not speak. Beneath the grass the speaking dreams and beneath the dreams is a sensate sea. The speech that frees comes forth from the amniotic deep. To attend its voice, I can hear it say, is to embrace its absence. But I fail the task. The word is stone. (Kogawa)
Silence is like a river of grace inviting us to leap unafraid into its beckoning depths. It is dark and mysterious in the waters of grace. Yet in the silent darkness we are given new eyes. In the heart of the divine we can see more clearly who we are. We are renewed and cleansed in this river of silence. There are those among you who fear the Great Silence. It is a foreign land to you. Sometimes it is good to leap into the unknown. Practice leaping. ~ Macrina Wiederkehr, Seven Sacred Places
My roommate during the pilgrimage is so quiet. For most of the time she stares out the window. When I speak to her, she just smiles. She hardly talks. I wonder what good silence brings her. She is just as quiet as a windless sea. But the silence did not separate us. For we need the silence to connect us when we pray together.