I am interested to know how it went for those who spent time in silence this Advent. Any insights? Nothing special? Joyful? A nice place to visit but you wouldn’t want to live there?
What I have realized is that the contemplative life is often a challenge to sustain. Some days—this morning, for example—the last thing I felt like doing was to allow everything to be as it is. Especially my own inner life. The impulse to avoidance is a strong one.
I would love to hear how it went for everyone? More broadly, how was Advent and Christmas?
Hello, Jack. I enjoy your Substacks, though I can't relate strongly to them. I'm a childhood mass murder survivor whose most consequential liability is a traumatic brain injury.
Prayer itself is hard enough for me, silent prayer a virtual impossibility. I realized years ago that if I were going to pray, I had to talk my prayers out loud. I haven't been upset by this. It's a child's posture, isn't it? But then our Lord has rather commendatory things to say about those whose approach to him is childlike.
This is NOT something I would have wished upon myself, I promise.
I'm not sure what the contemplative life means, or can mean, to someone like me. Turning off conscious thought hasn't exactly been my problem in life. As for sound itself, people who have traumatic brain injuries can be more easily tortured by it than the neurointact. ( Let it be recorded that as far as I know, I just coined that term. ) In 1987, I had no choice but to turn down an apartment which in every other way was perfect for me because I couldn't stand the sighing sound the air conditioning made when it kicked on.
Sound is also among my greatest comforts. I have the radio on almost always. I'm listening either to classical music on a local university station or, as I am as I write this, to the local jazz station. There are hardly any jazz stations left in the United States, and I'm convinced that the people who are doing it here are doing it for its value as a tax shelter. They are enthusiasts for the music, however, but if they weren't, I'd still be grateful for the gift of the music.
As you see, I'm not the stuff of which contemplatives are made, but I'm fascinated by the Substacks you write. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!
Thank you for writing. I appreciate your perspective. I have never considered contemplative prayer as completely silent. Certainly mine isn’t. I always read scripture out loud (I do the same with poetry) and liturgical prayer found within the Orthodox tradition is said aloud. Orthodox Jews pray out loud - silent prayer is not done. Jesus went out at night to pray; I assume he vocalized his prayers as a Jew and he certainly spoke aloud in the Garden and in the final prayers with his disciples. Being a contemplative has to do with your openness to God’s presence, Word, and guidance. The desire to place yourself in God’s presence is enough… music on, talking, and caring for yourself. Best wishes!!
Thank you for your encouragement, Diana. I had never seen it in that light.
It occurred to me that some readers might have been bewildered by my description of my noise sensitivity and the fact that I always have music on. The noise sensitivity is triggered by sound I can't control. I certainly have control over which music I listen to, and it's guaranteed to drown sound from outside my apartment.
Bobby- When I think about my own more or less "standard" load of trauma (the "standard" probably being a heavier load than most care to show to the world, or even acknowledge to themselves) it is clear that dealing with it can be at times very painful. It also often seems unending and I fully admit that it takes faith to keep going. How long, O Lord?
So, when dealing with what you describe it may actually be unbearable. But God does not leave us to our own devices, as you well know. I think of Teresa of Avila saying that some nuns under her supervision remained with vocal prayer and yet the depths of contemplation were still available to them.
As a musician I know that some of my deeper experiences of God's presence have come through playing and listening to music. It is, or can be, a deep channel of healing grace. That most commercial music seems anything but that, is one of the more troubling aspects of our time.
So even though I keep harping on silent contemplation I also recognize it isn't for everyone, nor need it be.
Thank you for your comment. It is appreciated. And thank you for being here. I think what you are saying needs to be taken into account.
Thank you for the challenge Jack, this was a wonderful experience. I worked up to 30 minutes in one setting and then three 10 minute settings, each preceding my prayer times (praying the hours). I silently repeated the Jesus Prayer while using my prayer rope during this time - not sure if that missed the point or not. But my prayer time following silence was much more calm and attentive. I was reminded of this saying:
First, do not start to pray without at least some brief preparation; second, do not perform your prayer carelessly, but do so with attention and feeling; third, do not return to your usual occupations immediately after you have finished praying. - St. Theophan the Recluse
Brian- This is beautiful. I don't think it missed the point at all. I also say the Jesus Prayer. I find it helps open me up to silence and silence opens me up to the prayer. I am glad it worked out well for you.
I like the quote from St. Theophan the Recluse. I have read him before but I hope to delve further into his writings at some point. It seems he has a lot to offer us with a kind of Hesychasm for life in the world.
Hit and miss for me. I found when I was able to sit the distractions came pretty quickly. But I am nearly finished with Mountain of Silence. And there is more for me to sit and chew on in that book than I was ready for. It’s been a blessing.
Mountain of Silence certainly has a lot in it to chew on. I need to read that again.
As far as I can tell hit or miss is pretty much how it goes. At least for me. Even so, the work goes on in the depths, I think, even as I keep getting caught up in the trivia on the surface. As best I can tell, sitting in silence is a way to consent to that deeper working. Progress, such as it is, can be glacial.
Excellent point. Even a little progress lets one know how far there is to go. And that the barrier is oneself. Looking at oneself in this way is hardly a cause for pride. Even a little bit of clarity can be greatly troubling for what it reveals.
For me, I have focused more on balancing my ordinary activities, including prayer, with more focus on listening and being patient. I have also tried to spend more time with people, bringing this more receptive mindset with me. It is a small shift, but I have found it helpful, particularly in terms of being able to let go of things that are not important, and to attend to things that are.
Peter- It is interesting. As I sit in silence not only my ability to listen to others increases, but also my desire to listen. As someone who has long gotten revved up talking about ideas, etc. this is a good sign. Listening is a delight. It changes things.
I struggled to sustain the challenge. I think I need to do it first thing in the morning for it to happen consistently. I often had to grab my quiet time while walking the dog. Not that that is all bad, but it doesn't feel as special.
I had a family member in distress come to stay with her 3 children so it was wild in my house... 11 people to feed, kids sleeping on the living room floor, a rabbit and a cat in tow. It was nice, though, as it completely obliterated lots of the meaningless consumer Christmas activities that are on offer -- and we all were able to focus on someone else who has real problems and have gratitude for the simple stability of our lives as a family. It also got me thinking about amateur psychotherapy, community support I guess is all that means. In a low energy future I don't think we will simply refer distressed people to social agencies or to therapists. We will need to know how to listen, how to discern, and to simply stretch enough to be helpful.
When I did have truly silent times for contemplation I always found my mind busy. I have been attending Quaker meetings for 8 years now and I still have yet to experience a true emptiness, and internal silence. I mostly just keep attempting to return to it as I notice that I am wandering. Thanks for organizing this challenge and opening discussion about it, Jack.
Clara- It is obviously an entirely different challenge for those, like yourself, who have a large family and a lot going on. It's often hard enough as a childless bachelor residing in a hermitage at a monastery, truth be told.
Paradoxical as it may sound, I think there is a stillness possible that does not preclude a head filled with thoughts, even anxious ones. I can just let the thoughts be and do their thing--for the time of the prayer they are not my concern. When I find I am caught up in them, that very realization constitutes a return. Allowing thoughts is a way of letting them go, even when they keep coming and coming. As long as I keep noticing and returning--neither fighting nor engaging thoughts--then I am doing my part. The rest is up to God. In that sense the only way I can fail is to give up. Internal silence, should it come, may only last a nanosecond. That is enough, I think.
There is something deeply healing for someone in distress to be around others. Amateur psychotherapy, when done in love, is probably the best kind there is.
At the beginning of the year, I signed up at the local Cathedral to be present at the Adoration held on Thursdays, between 4-5. They wanted to insure that a minimum of two people were always present. I wanted to be more active in the church, and it was either that or be a greeter, which would not have suited me. After attending a while, I began to add days where I would go to the cathedral on my own and sit for 45 minutes or an hour in silence. For a long time, I probably averaged at least 3 days a week doing this, and in the last few weeks it was more like 4-5 days a week.
When I started at the adoration, that hour used to crawl by. I usually brought prayer books or books of poetry to help me get in to the mood, and gradually it got easier. Later, I would just sit there and sometimes the time would fly by, even if I didn't read. I still bring books with me, but increasingly they stay in the bag. I have never spent an hour in silence every day for an extended period, although I live alone and it would be quite easy to just turn off everything and just be quiet. But I am fond of classical music, so I usually have it on when I'm home.
Yesterday was different. I did some errands in the morning, but when I got home I did not listen to the radio or watch television. I can't tell you exactly how I spent that 4 hours or so, but the silence slowly became sort of normal. Without consciously willing it, I experienced a leap in the amount of silence I could tolerate. Today followed suit. After meeting a friend for coffee this morning, I occupied myself in total silence for a couple of hours. When I did turn on the radio, I listened for a few minutes, before turning it off again. I actually preferred the silence; there was no sense that I was depriving myself of anything.
I have had some experience in establishing new habits, as I had a lot of bad habits that needed to be replaced, particularly when I was younger. It is hard at first, but if I kept it up, something would click and the habit would become my new normal, my preferred way of being. Yesterday felt very much like one of those "click" moments. Of course, this could just be a couple of good days in a row, and I will go back to status quo ante tomorrow. I am not overly concerned by the possibility.
I have reflected some on how things have come to be in my current practice. A year ago, I was looking for something I could contribute at church, and suddenly the opportunity to cover an hour at the Adoration became available. I felt at the time that was something I could not only do, but something I wanted to do. It was at first difficult, but then that hour became the highlight of my week. One hour a week then morphed into 3 or 4, naturally and with no effort on my behalf. Now I have added silence at home. I do not know where this is leading. But do I feel the hours I spend sitting silently are definitely awakening something in me that resists clear definition. It is a good thing, though. And all due to the fact that I volunteered a year ago to sit an hour a week in front of the Blessed Sacrament. I definitely made the right choice!
Jim- Thank you for this, it is encouraging and beautifully expressed. I wish more people could experience Adoration. The fear of silence is that it is often experienced as an absence, an emptiness, even at times a disturbing isolation. This is part of its power--its healing power, even--but it is extremely intense at times. In Adoration, there is a gentle, loving presence and silence is a way to experience this more deeply. In Adoration one is not alone in silence. In fact, in the silence of Adoration I have hardly ever felt *less alone*. Even if I was there in a mostly empty church.
I don't see any reason why non-Catholics shouldn't go to Adoration. I would be interested to know what they experience there.
It's true that there is an element of natural unfolding, of wanting to do these things, along with a little bit of nudging and intentional direction. You describe that well.
Michelangelo and William Blake were right about God.
From a Biblical perspective the nature of God is seen as reflected in aspects of the created order. Yes, God to a certain degree does have the nature of space, wind, emptiness, mist, air, sky, force, energy, light, darkness so congenial to Buddhist/Hindu/New Age types. However humans as being made in the image of God, are the best representation of what God is like – especially a human at their highest development, a mature, wise, good, vital 50+ man or woman. I knew a dynamic, spiritual woman in her late sixties, another one in her eighties they both reminded me of a female God the Father carrying personal authority.
To me saying God is NOT like a man – Our Father in Heaven - is dumbing God down, making God less than what he is, flattening the divine out, a less than human gas. In a true sense since humans are made in the divine image, humaness is intrinsic to God, God is even MORE human than we are, as our humanity is but an image of that which is being imaged. though divine humanity is an infinite multidimensional cube compared to our simple flat squares. God is even more perfectly human than us who are echoes, a flatter image of him.
There is much wisdom and truth in Michelangelo’s and William Blake’s depictions of God as a dynamic, active, wise older man. Far from being simplifications of God they point to his personal depth, his danger, his joy and love and perfect humanness and the familiarity and commonality we encounter when we meet him for he is like us for we are patterned after him.
Thank you for your reminder to go aside to God. I am all fired up and here are some fruits of your reminder.
In all this talk of a wild Christianity I see no talk of the wild spiritual life of Jesus had with God the Father. A wild life we can also have as being fellow sons of God filled with the Holy Spirit – John 1:12, Galatians 3:26, 4:6. A wild Christianity with the Father because it is empowered by the Holy Spirit doesn’t need nature immersion to happen, though having the privilege of nature immersion I suppose may be a useful adjunct for many. After all when Jesus gave prayer instructions in Matthew 6 he said to close the door to your room!, not go forest bathing.
When you look at the actual spirituality espoused by Jesus and practiced by him in the Gospels it is utterly unfashionable by those who look to non-dual awareness, and “Christ Consciousness” "ground of being” as the ticket. No, nothing as ethereal as that! A Father in heaven, “pray to your Father who is there unseen”. Jesus was by no means ashamed of the old man and talked about and to him a whole lot. God speaking in an audible voice, expectation of specific even miraculous answers to prayer, lifting eyes in prayer, a robust intensely personal God the Father that isn’t you, but you can know, and directly know his love for you as an individual.
Jesus on the cross cried out “My God, my God why have you forsaken me” far from being a cry of abandonment it was act of teaching and prophetic proclamation – which was a part of his job at the time, it was a quote from the first line of Psalm 22 which contains prophecy of what was happening at the moment, and was a statement of deep faith and knowing.
I could go on and on with more examples from all over the Bible of this wonderful dualistic experience of the Living God. The Father made us as individual humans and intends to keep us that way. This is all very childlike as Jesus says we are to be. I know vigorous attempts have been made to squeeze this knowing of the Father and the Biblical record into a new orthodoxy of a “wiser” quasi-Buddhism. The final state presented as the ultimate is us embodied as individual humans even as Jesus is now, in the presence of God, in a new physical creation of multiplicity, filled with the Holy Spirit, not generic vanilla pudding non-duality. Sounds like fun to me, which all children delight in.
Hm...I am at an impasse , or so it seems. I have been meditating for years - and so to devote an hour to your Pascal challenge? Easy peacy. Or so it would seem.
But this dreadful knowing decended on me which is that I meditate because I want to achieve something...the Union with the Divine? Awakening? Wisdom? Ah, to finally Understand this strange experience of being alive!
And so I see that my mind is still ruling me even when I meditate - I am judging myself and my life as lacking in something vital and I am searching, wishing, yearning for...meaning? Icecream? Who knows? Something Bigger than I.
And how can I find something when I already have this judgement in my head/mind/soul - that I need something else? This drive, this urge for deeper meaning is what is keeping me away from the very thing I seek.
So then, I gave up meditation all together for a few weeks and bought a lot of wine and drank it.
I loved the silence and found myself extending the time to about 90 minutes each day. My contemplative prayer improved and made me more eager to pray and reflect. I stopped listening to podcasts in the car and on my walks. I savor moments when I have to be patient, like peeling organic hard boiled eggs. I think... I hope I am kinder to others and more willing to listen closely to their words and body language. I will continue to accept Pascal's challenge.
Diana- That is beautiful to hear. Even when challenging silent can start to bring about the changes you describe. A different kind of familiarity with the world. Maybe even at times of being at home in the way things are. The world expands because in some sense because so do we--even if only by a little.
I have seen the Merton film you linked to. It is beautiful. Highly recommended.
Silence is difficult but the alternative is much worse in my opinion . We have to face what is in us. I was wondering if you or anyone has read “Into the Silent Land” by Martin Laird ?
Beautiful book. Below is a quote in it. Thank you for letting me comment .
“The doorway into the silent land is a wound. Silence lays bare this wound. We do not journey far along the spiritual path before we get some sense of the wound of the human condition, and this is precisely why not a few abandon a contemplative practice like meditation as soon as it begins to expose this wound; they move on instead to some spiritual entertainment that will maintain distraction. Perhaps this is why the weak and wounded, who know very well the vulnerability of the human condition, often have an aptitude for discovering silence and can sense the wholeness and healing that ground this wound. “
Joanna- The only thing worse than silence is not being able to find any. The problem being not that nothing happens but often too much does. It can be overwhelming, particularly if you are doing the 9 to 5 thing. All that we didn't know was there--and maybe didn't want to know--starts bubbling up. And it keeps coming. It is easy to be "distracted" and move on. At some point, maybe, we realize that there is probably no other way.
I have read "Into a Silent Land". I found his books very helpful in providing a deeper orientation to silent prayer. Also, beautifully and poetically written.
I agree with you completely. I found that out a long time ago hence I live in a rural area and am quite reclusive, and have somehow been able to avoid succumbing to many of the material trappings of contemporary society that create debt and keep you on the so- called “hamster wheel” of life. My husband I manage on very little and hope to continue... God willing !
Hi Jack - I'm writing an article on psychedelics, spirituality and modernity for Unherd and I would love to interview you. Here's my portfolio of previous writings: https://edprideaux.journoportfolio.com/
Please email me at eddie.prideaux@gmail.com if you are interested in chatting and setting up a time.
Hello, Jack. I enjoy your Substacks, though I can't relate strongly to them. I'm a childhood mass murder survivor whose most consequential liability is a traumatic brain injury.
Prayer itself is hard enough for me, silent prayer a virtual impossibility. I realized years ago that if I were going to pray, I had to talk my prayers out loud. I haven't been upset by this. It's a child's posture, isn't it? But then our Lord has rather commendatory things to say about those whose approach to him is childlike.
This is NOT something I would have wished upon myself, I promise.
I'm not sure what the contemplative life means, or can mean, to someone like me. Turning off conscious thought hasn't exactly been my problem in life. As for sound itself, people who have traumatic brain injuries can be more easily tortured by it than the neurointact. ( Let it be recorded that as far as I know, I just coined that term. ) In 1987, I had no choice but to turn down an apartment which in every other way was perfect for me because I couldn't stand the sighing sound the air conditioning made when it kicked on.
Sound is also among my greatest comforts. I have the radio on almost always. I'm listening either to classical music on a local university station or, as I am as I write this, to the local jazz station. There are hardly any jazz stations left in the United States, and I'm convinced that the people who are doing it here are doing it for its value as a tax shelter. They are enthusiasts for the music, however, but if they weren't, I'd still be grateful for the gift of the music.
As you see, I'm not the stuff of which contemplatives are made, but I'm fascinated by the Substacks you write. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!
Thank you for writing. I appreciate your perspective. I have never considered contemplative prayer as completely silent. Certainly mine isn’t. I always read scripture out loud (I do the same with poetry) and liturgical prayer found within the Orthodox tradition is said aloud. Orthodox Jews pray out loud - silent prayer is not done. Jesus went out at night to pray; I assume he vocalized his prayers as a Jew and he certainly spoke aloud in the Garden and in the final prayers with his disciples. Being a contemplative has to do with your openness to God’s presence, Word, and guidance. The desire to place yourself in God’s presence is enough… music on, talking, and caring for yourself. Best wishes!!
Thank you for your encouragement, Diana. I had never seen it in that light.
It occurred to me that some readers might have been bewildered by my description of my noise sensitivity and the fact that I always have music on. The noise sensitivity is triggered by sound I can't control. I certainly have control over which music I listen to, and it's guaranteed to drown sound from outside my apartment.
Bobby- When I think about my own more or less "standard" load of trauma (the "standard" probably being a heavier load than most care to show to the world, or even acknowledge to themselves) it is clear that dealing with it can be at times very painful. It also often seems unending and I fully admit that it takes faith to keep going. How long, O Lord?
So, when dealing with what you describe it may actually be unbearable. But God does not leave us to our own devices, as you well know. I think of Teresa of Avila saying that some nuns under her supervision remained with vocal prayer and yet the depths of contemplation were still available to them.
As a musician I know that some of my deeper experiences of God's presence have come through playing and listening to music. It is, or can be, a deep channel of healing grace. That most commercial music seems anything but that, is one of the more troubling aspects of our time.
So even though I keep harping on silent contemplation I also recognize it isn't for everyone, nor need it be.
Thank you for your comment. It is appreciated. And thank you for being here. I think what you are saying needs to be taken into account.
I hope you are well. -Jack
Thank you for the challenge Jack, this was a wonderful experience. I worked up to 30 minutes in one setting and then three 10 minute settings, each preceding my prayer times (praying the hours). I silently repeated the Jesus Prayer while using my prayer rope during this time - not sure if that missed the point or not. But my prayer time following silence was much more calm and attentive. I was reminded of this saying:
First, do not start to pray without at least some brief preparation; second, do not perform your prayer carelessly, but do so with attention and feeling; third, do not return to your usual occupations immediately after you have finished praying. - St. Theophan the Recluse
Brian- This is beautiful. I don't think it missed the point at all. I also say the Jesus Prayer. I find it helps open me up to silence and silence opens me up to the prayer. I am glad it worked out well for you.
I like the quote from St. Theophan the Recluse. I have read him before but I hope to delve further into his writings at some point. It seems he has a lot to offer us with a kind of Hesychasm for life in the world.
I hope you are well. -Jack
Hit and miss for me. I found when I was able to sit the distractions came pretty quickly. But I am nearly finished with Mountain of Silence. And there is more for me to sit and chew on in that book than I was ready for. It’s been a blessing.
JP-
Mountain of Silence certainly has a lot in it to chew on. I need to read that again.
As far as I can tell hit or miss is pretty much how it goes. At least for me. Even so, the work goes on in the depths, I think, even as I keep getting caught up in the trivia on the surface. As best I can tell, sitting in silence is a way to consent to that deeper working. Progress, such as it is, can be glacial.
I hope you are well. -Jack
The glacial pace probably keeps us humble and honest. Otherwise it’s just attempts at magical incantation.
Excellent point. Even a little progress lets one know how far there is to go. And that the barrier is oneself. Looking at oneself in this way is hardly a cause for pride. Even a little bit of clarity can be greatly troubling for what it reveals.
It's all on God's time, and in God's way.
I read the book a few months ago as well, and had the same experience.
For me, I have focused more on balancing my ordinary activities, including prayer, with more focus on listening and being patient. I have also tried to spend more time with people, bringing this more receptive mindset with me. It is a small shift, but I have found it helpful, particularly in terms of being able to let go of things that are not important, and to attend to things that are.
Peter- It is interesting. As I sit in silence not only my ability to listen to others increases, but also my desire to listen. As someone who has long gotten revved up talking about ideas, etc. this is a good sign. Listening is a delight. It changes things.
Thank you. -Jack
I struggled to sustain the challenge. I think I need to do it first thing in the morning for it to happen consistently. I often had to grab my quiet time while walking the dog. Not that that is all bad, but it doesn't feel as special.
I had a family member in distress come to stay with her 3 children so it was wild in my house... 11 people to feed, kids sleeping on the living room floor, a rabbit and a cat in tow. It was nice, though, as it completely obliterated lots of the meaningless consumer Christmas activities that are on offer -- and we all were able to focus on someone else who has real problems and have gratitude for the simple stability of our lives as a family. It also got me thinking about amateur psychotherapy, community support I guess is all that means. In a low energy future I don't think we will simply refer distressed people to social agencies or to therapists. We will need to know how to listen, how to discern, and to simply stretch enough to be helpful.
When I did have truly silent times for contemplation I always found my mind busy. I have been attending Quaker meetings for 8 years now and I still have yet to experience a true emptiness, and internal silence. I mostly just keep attempting to return to it as I notice that I am wandering. Thanks for organizing this challenge and opening discussion about it, Jack.
Clara
Clara- It is obviously an entirely different challenge for those, like yourself, who have a large family and a lot going on. It's often hard enough as a childless bachelor residing in a hermitage at a monastery, truth be told.
Paradoxical as it may sound, I think there is a stillness possible that does not preclude a head filled with thoughts, even anxious ones. I can just let the thoughts be and do their thing--for the time of the prayer they are not my concern. When I find I am caught up in them, that very realization constitutes a return. Allowing thoughts is a way of letting them go, even when they keep coming and coming. As long as I keep noticing and returning--neither fighting nor engaging thoughts--then I am doing my part. The rest is up to God. In that sense the only way I can fail is to give up. Internal silence, should it come, may only last a nanosecond. That is enough, I think.
There is something deeply healing for someone in distress to be around others. Amateur psychotherapy, when done in love, is probably the best kind there is.
-Jack
At the beginning of the year, I signed up at the local Cathedral to be present at the Adoration held on Thursdays, between 4-5. They wanted to insure that a minimum of two people were always present. I wanted to be more active in the church, and it was either that or be a greeter, which would not have suited me. After attending a while, I began to add days where I would go to the cathedral on my own and sit for 45 minutes or an hour in silence. For a long time, I probably averaged at least 3 days a week doing this, and in the last few weeks it was more like 4-5 days a week.
When I started at the adoration, that hour used to crawl by. I usually brought prayer books or books of poetry to help me get in to the mood, and gradually it got easier. Later, I would just sit there and sometimes the time would fly by, even if I didn't read. I still bring books with me, but increasingly they stay in the bag. I have never spent an hour in silence every day for an extended period, although I live alone and it would be quite easy to just turn off everything and just be quiet. But I am fond of classical music, so I usually have it on when I'm home.
Yesterday was different. I did some errands in the morning, but when I got home I did not listen to the radio or watch television. I can't tell you exactly how I spent that 4 hours or so, but the silence slowly became sort of normal. Without consciously willing it, I experienced a leap in the amount of silence I could tolerate. Today followed suit. After meeting a friend for coffee this morning, I occupied myself in total silence for a couple of hours. When I did turn on the radio, I listened for a few minutes, before turning it off again. I actually preferred the silence; there was no sense that I was depriving myself of anything.
I have had some experience in establishing new habits, as I had a lot of bad habits that needed to be replaced, particularly when I was younger. It is hard at first, but if I kept it up, something would click and the habit would become my new normal, my preferred way of being. Yesterday felt very much like one of those "click" moments. Of course, this could just be a couple of good days in a row, and I will go back to status quo ante tomorrow. I am not overly concerned by the possibility.
I have reflected some on how things have come to be in my current practice. A year ago, I was looking for something I could contribute at church, and suddenly the opportunity to cover an hour at the Adoration became available. I felt at the time that was something I could not only do, but something I wanted to do. It was at first difficult, but then that hour became the highlight of my week. One hour a week then morphed into 3 or 4, naturally and with no effort on my behalf. Now I have added silence at home. I do not know where this is leading. But do I feel the hours I spend sitting silently are definitely awakening something in me that resists clear definition. It is a good thing, though. And all due to the fact that I volunteered a year ago to sit an hour a week in front of the Blessed Sacrament. I definitely made the right choice!
Jim- Thank you for this, it is encouraging and beautifully expressed. I wish more people could experience Adoration. The fear of silence is that it is often experienced as an absence, an emptiness, even at times a disturbing isolation. This is part of its power--its healing power, even--but it is extremely intense at times. In Adoration, there is a gentle, loving presence and silence is a way to experience this more deeply. In Adoration one is not alone in silence. In fact, in the silence of Adoration I have hardly ever felt *less alone*. Even if I was there in a mostly empty church.
I don't see any reason why non-Catholics shouldn't go to Adoration. I would be interested to know what they experience there.
Thank you again for your comment. -Jack
It's true that there is an element of natural unfolding, of wanting to do these things, along with a little bit of nudging and intentional direction. You describe that well.
Clara
Michelangelo and William Blake were right about God.
From a Biblical perspective the nature of God is seen as reflected in aspects of the created order. Yes, God to a certain degree does have the nature of space, wind, emptiness, mist, air, sky, force, energy, light, darkness so congenial to Buddhist/Hindu/New Age types. However humans as being made in the image of God, are the best representation of what God is like – especially a human at their highest development, a mature, wise, good, vital 50+ man or woman. I knew a dynamic, spiritual woman in her late sixties, another one in her eighties they both reminded me of a female God the Father carrying personal authority.
To me saying God is NOT like a man – Our Father in Heaven - is dumbing God down, making God less than what he is, flattening the divine out, a less than human gas. In a true sense since humans are made in the divine image, humaness is intrinsic to God, God is even MORE human than we are, as our humanity is but an image of that which is being imaged. though divine humanity is an infinite multidimensional cube compared to our simple flat squares. God is even more perfectly human than us who are echoes, a flatter image of him.
There is much wisdom and truth in Michelangelo’s and William Blake’s depictions of God as a dynamic, active, wise older man. Far from being simplifications of God they point to his personal depth, his danger, his joy and love and perfect humanness and the familiarity and commonality we encounter when we meet him for he is like us for we are patterned after him.
Thank you for your reminder to go aside to God. I am all fired up and here are some fruits of your reminder.
In all this talk of a wild Christianity I see no talk of the wild spiritual life of Jesus had with God the Father. A wild life we can also have as being fellow sons of God filled with the Holy Spirit – John 1:12, Galatians 3:26, 4:6. A wild Christianity with the Father because it is empowered by the Holy Spirit doesn’t need nature immersion to happen, though having the privilege of nature immersion I suppose may be a useful adjunct for many. After all when Jesus gave prayer instructions in Matthew 6 he said to close the door to your room!, not go forest bathing.
When you look at the actual spirituality espoused by Jesus and practiced by him in the Gospels it is utterly unfashionable by those who look to non-dual awareness, and “Christ Consciousness” "ground of being” as the ticket. No, nothing as ethereal as that! A Father in heaven, “pray to your Father who is there unseen”. Jesus was by no means ashamed of the old man and talked about and to him a whole lot. God speaking in an audible voice, expectation of specific even miraculous answers to prayer, lifting eyes in prayer, a robust intensely personal God the Father that isn’t you, but you can know, and directly know his love for you as an individual.
Jesus on the cross cried out “My God, my God why have you forsaken me” far from being a cry of abandonment it was act of teaching and prophetic proclamation – which was a part of his job at the time, it was a quote from the first line of Psalm 22 which contains prophecy of what was happening at the moment, and was a statement of deep faith and knowing.
I could go on and on with more examples from all over the Bible of this wonderful dualistic experience of the Living God. The Father made us as individual humans and intends to keep us that way. This is all very childlike as Jesus says we are to be. I know vigorous attempts have been made to squeeze this knowing of the Father and the Biblical record into a new orthodoxy of a “wiser” quasi-Buddhism. The final state presented as the ultimate is us embodied as individual humans even as Jesus is now, in the presence of God, in a new physical creation of multiplicity, filled with the Holy Spirit, not generic vanilla pudding non-duality. Sounds like fun to me, which all children delight in.
Hm...I am at an impasse , or so it seems. I have been meditating for years - and so to devote an hour to your Pascal challenge? Easy peacy. Or so it would seem.
But this dreadful knowing decended on me which is that I meditate because I want to achieve something...the Union with the Divine? Awakening? Wisdom? Ah, to finally Understand this strange experience of being alive!
And so I see that my mind is still ruling me even when I meditate - I am judging myself and my life as lacking in something vital and I am searching, wishing, yearning for...meaning? Icecream? Who knows? Something Bigger than I.
And how can I find something when I already have this judgement in my head/mind/soul - that I need something else? This drive, this urge for deeper meaning is what is keeping me away from the very thing I seek.
So then, I gave up meditation all together for a few weeks and bought a lot of wine and drank it.
So. I failed the Pascal challenge.
And I have a mighty hangover to prove it. :-)
I loved the silence and found myself extending the time to about 90 minutes each day. My contemplative prayer improved and made me more eager to pray and reflect. I stopped listening to podcasts in the car and on my walks. I savor moments when I have to be patient, like peeling organic hard boiled eggs. I think... I hope I am kinder to others and more willing to listen closely to their words and body language. I will continue to accept Pascal's challenge.
Thank you for asking about our experiences. I wanted to send you this wonderful article and film and did not know how to do so. I hope you and your readers like it. https://emergencemagazine.org/feature/on-the-road-with-thomas-merton/
Diana- That is beautiful to hear. Even when challenging silent can start to bring about the changes you describe. A different kind of familiarity with the world. Maybe even at times of being at home in the way things are. The world expands because in some sense because so do we--even if only by a little.
I have seen the Merton film you linked to. It is beautiful. Highly recommended.
Thank you. -Jack
Silence is an unobtainable luxury it seems.
Kate- I have lived most of my life with silence being a luxury, often an unobtainable one. -Jack
Silence is difficult but the alternative is much worse in my opinion . We have to face what is in us. I was wondering if you or anyone has read “Into the Silent Land” by Martin Laird ?
Beautiful book. Below is a quote in it. Thank you for letting me comment .
“The doorway into the silent land is a wound. Silence lays bare this wound. We do not journey far along the spiritual path before we get some sense of the wound of the human condition, and this is precisely why not a few abandon a contemplative practice like meditation as soon as it begins to expose this wound; they move on instead to some spiritual entertainment that will maintain distraction. Perhaps this is why the weak and wounded, who know very well the vulnerability of the human condition, often have an aptitude for discovering silence and can sense the wholeness and healing that ground this wound. “
Joanna- The only thing worse than silence is not being able to find any. The problem being not that nothing happens but often too much does. It can be overwhelming, particularly if you are doing the 9 to 5 thing. All that we didn't know was there--and maybe didn't want to know--starts bubbling up. And it keeps coming. It is easy to be "distracted" and move on. At some point, maybe, we realize that there is probably no other way.
I have read "Into a Silent Land". I found his books very helpful in providing a deeper orientation to silent prayer. Also, beautifully and poetically written.
Thank you for your comment. -Jack
I agree with you completely. I found that out a long time ago hence I live in a rural area and am quite reclusive, and have somehow been able to avoid succumbing to many of the material trappings of contemporary society that create debt and keep you on the so- called “hamster wheel” of life. My husband I manage on very little and hope to continue... God willing !
Hi Jack - I'm writing an article on psychedelics, spirituality and modernity for Unherd and I would love to interview you. Here's my portfolio of previous writings: https://edprideaux.journoportfolio.com/
Please email me at eddie.prideaux@gmail.com if you are interested in chatting and setting up a time.