Yet this is when we need it.
It's not hard. All that's required is a desire to relax deeply and turn off the world for a little while. No music. No conversation. All that's needed is a willingness to meet awareness itself – that bright, deep, quiet place where we really live.
Yet for some reason, there's always an excuse to avoid it. No time. And then there's the fact that for many of us, doing nothing feels like a guilty pleasure. We have been so deeply programmed to believe that idle time is unproductive, or that idle hands lead to mischief, we forget that those idle moments are the ones that bring new insight, deep rest, and fresh energy. We forget that silence brings us into the presence of something greater.
In that bright, deep, quiet place, joy rises. Not the superficial joy that might come with an expensive car, or an understanding spouse, or a dog that doesn't pee on the carpet. It goes deeper. It carries us farther. It nourishes and inspires us. As Jane Goodall says, in "Reason for Hope": "And now, if I am sad, or filled with sudden rage, I find some quiet place with grass and leaves and earth, and sit there silently, and hope that they will come and call me with their silvery voices, and make me clean again, those little angels of the trees and flowers."
And, if that's not enough, when we leave that quiet corner, it spills over into everyday life. Appreciation rises effortlessly for the things that are in our life – a new feeling of generosity towards that old beater that carries us to work each day – a new tenderness towards the old dog, even as you mop up the wet spot. New qualities of respect and acceptance unfold naturally.
All that, just from a few minutes of silence a day.
