Monday, March 11, 2013

SILENCE !!!

Keeping silent.  I admit, it’s not something I'm good at.  I suffer from an access of personality, and it’s often difficult to keep still and quiet in meetings and so on. I can feel my insides vibrating with energy, and the longer I am forced to participate in stillness more anxious I become.  I'm happiest entertaining, being the center of attention, goofing off or just being flat-out busy.

However, as much company as my own turmoil can be, I do seek the rejuvenating power of quiet time.  Not total silence, mind you, that would be too creepy.  Sensory deprivation is never the goal, but shielding oneself from the external distractions of everyday life is.  When we work out our muscles, we need sleep to heal and repair, but silence or quiet time is like sleep for the brain. One of the few truly useful things my mother has imparted to me is a rhyme.  I'm sure you’ve heard it:
A wise old owl sat in an oak
The more he saw, the less he spoke
The less he spoke, the more he heard
Now wasn’t he a wise old bird! 

Knowing when to keep silent is at times an elusive art form, at least for me.  Some folks seem to be gifted with the ability to keep their mouth shut at the right time and place, while others seem cursed to never speak their minds.  There are many reasons for people being afraid to give voice to the things that impact them on a personal level.  Abusive relationships will do that to a person, often without realizing its happening.  Waiting for the “right time” or a softer moment often never comes, and we begin the practice of bottling things way deep inside….of course….there is only so much room in a bottle.  Once you put something in practice, you are on the road to habit.  Also, some people are just not built that way.  The beautifully minded ones of special conscience, the non combative are by nature peaceful and not aggressive.  I believe they are truly more evolved and are more heroic in my view than their counterparts. 

However, until the world rotates itself into a state of total peace and harmony, some of us have to speak up.  As for me, I am unfettered by the softer approach.  The ridiculous and unfair seem to be everywhere.  My bullshit filter is sharply focused, perhaps too focused, often coloring across the lines into impatience.   Those who know me well will laugh at that last sentence; I’m sure feeling that “often” is not strong enough a word.  I'm ok with it though.   

Over the last few years I have learned to make friends with myself, and am ever aware of the need to marry silence and patience.  It took some doing, let me tell you.  Trying to get a terminally impatient man to be at ease with himself is like trying to teach good people skills to a DMV clerk.  What I learned, what I have put into practice has had an impact in other areas of my life as well.   

One afternoon in my workshop, building an engine, I found I needed to build a custom bracket for a non-stock alternator.   The new bracket did not quite fit between one part and another, and after many trips to the grinder I was getting more than frustrated.  The radio was screaming in the background and my own sense of self imposed pressure was taking over.  The more I ground off, the more my beautifully crafted new alternator bracket became brutalized.  Out loud, as the total mayhem of my own design close in, I screamed, “there’s no f#^%ing room!”  Like a missile, the bracket left my hand and buried itself deep inside the radio.  Silence followed.  The silence was so dark and cool I could hear my heart beating in my head.  I dropped my hands to my side and stood with my fists clenched.  Tears were near the surface. I was stunned to realize how wound up I had become.  What had begun as a pleasurable and happy afternoon in my workshop had turned into a thunderstorm inside my head.  “There’s no F#*^%ing room,” ricocheted around inside my head like a rifle bullet in a metal box. 

I rather rapidly understood, standing on the cool cement floor, that it wasn’t the alternator bracket that needed some grinding down,  it was me.  My mind was full of noise and impatience, leaving not room at all for the calm and attention I needed to finish the job.  I let go the tension in my fists and breathed in a fresh breath, or two, or three… 

Outside my shop, against the front wall, is a small garden bench.  I got it from who-knows-where, but I don’t sit in it often enough.  Leaning back on its hard wooden slats, I slowly calmed down.  I’ve never been a violent man, but will admit to a few private little temper tantrums in my lifetime.  They have never ended with the desired result, and nothing has ever fixed itself because of one.  Once long ago, while fixing a Jaguar engine in the freezing cold and splitting my icy knuckles on steel, I threw a wrench out of my garage.  It bounced off my driveway, sailed across the street and went through the neighbor’s car side window.  A sobering and expensive outburst.  If it wasn’t for the incredibly good nature of my neighbor, who took great delight at my sad and sorrowful explanation and apology at his front door, it could have been much worse. 

This time, sitting quietly on garden bench, outside my workshop, I had nearly forgotten the alternator bracket and was now acutely aware of myself.  The truth of the answer was more obvious than the nose on my face, which is rather obvious.  I had known what needed to be done to fix the problem, but did not want to listen to my own intuition.  I was trying to make something that looked good fit where it didn’t belong.  In retrospect, it’s not the first time I’ve made that mistake.  If had just taken the time to stop, look and quiet my own thoughts I would still have been happily working.  The noisy radio had not been helping, and although that particular radio would sing no more, it wasn’t its fault.  After long moments in the sun and silent afternoon air, I was able to rise again to face the task at hand. 

Silence is our friend.  It’s not something to hide from.  It’s not punishment and it’s not the absence of entertainment or fun.  Silence is not loneliness.  So often the two are presented in the negative, hand in hand, but they are far from similar.  Silence, or quiet, is the home of patience.  It is the foundation of inspiration, of art and focus.  Silence is the shutter of the mind’s eye.  In silence, looking inward, one can see more clearly outward.

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