In a World of Noise, Listen to the Silence

This month, we're exploring the edges — how to stretch and grow beyond what we already know. While each talk so far is wonderful, Rev. Liz Morante took us to the edge of what’s known — not just personally, but collectively, and spoke to some topics I'm currently wrestling with, as many of you may also be. If you missed it, you can watch or listen here.

We’re living in a time of extraordinary complexity. Socially. Politically. Environmentally. Economically. The systems we’ve relied on are overburdened and strained. The narratives we’ve inherited aren't working the way they once did (if they ever really did).

Silence gives us access to new ways of thinking.

And as Rev. Liz reminded us (paraphrasing Einstein), we cannot solve today’s problems with yesterday’s thinking. This may be more true now than ever, and I think most of us sense that.

The question is: now what?

The Stories That Keep Us Stuck

Rev. Liz referenced old stories, or old beliefs, that we tend to hold, societally, stories that operate in the background beyond our conscious awareness. For example,

• Win/lose

• Us vs. them (tribalism, or ‘othering’)

• There’s only one right way

Sound familiar? We hear or see them everywhere, in politics, in economics, in religion, in cultural tribalism, and more. The need to be right is embedded in survival instincts (Rev. Don talked about being right vs doing right last week), a belief that there's no middle ground, or that there's just one right answer.

At its root, it’s noise. And it’s exhausting. When the old stories, or that noise, dominate, we react, rather than respond. We’re pushed by fear, anger, or urgency.

But Rev. Liz offered another possibility: instead of waiting to be pushed, we can allow ourselves to be pulled — pulled by vision, by something deeper that calls us forward.

Sometimes growth requires a push (I know the feeling of that metaphorical two-by-four, or the proverbial whack on the side of the head). But transformation? That’s where silence matters. It's where visions are born and that deeper calling is recognized.

Silence as Threshold: Listen to It

Our modern culture is built on words. We speak them, post them, argue with them, affirm with them. In Science of Mind, we use words intentionally to shape thoughts and define beliefs.

And yet words can also constrict. They can put a box around something that’s meant to be open. They're the symbol, not the thing, and as such, they're limiting. As the mystics remind us, that which can be named is never the whole of it. (Rev. Liz mentioned the 99 names for God in Islam, to imply that there are always more.)

Silence, Liz said, is the threshold.

It’s not the absence of thought (good luck with that), but it does allow space for something deeper to emerge. Be still and know, from the Biblical Psalms, while interpretations vary, implies that through stillness, or silence, we find divine connection. The still mind is an opening for new, divinely inspired ideas. Creativity doesn’t come from rehashing what we already know; it arises in stillness.

I didn’t realize, but Quakers have practiced sitting together in silence for centuries. Founder William Penn said, “Silence is to spirit what sleep is to the body.”

Mystics like Joel Goldsmith talked about the stilled mind, or inner listening, rather than effort, as the doorway through which divine ideas flow.

And, silence isn’t easy.

Many of us are uncomfortable with silence. Early religious leaders even frowned on silence and meditation because they threatened their, or institutional, power. And, it’s also where old stories surface, as Rev. Liz mentioned. “I’m not enough.” “This won’t work, what are you thinking?” It can get just as noisy inside as it does outside.

With all the “noise” inside and out, silence can seem hard. I know my nervous system feels a little taxed right now. And yet, when I can access silence, even briefly, answers come. Insights. Wisdom. That next right step. We must listen to the silence.

A Brave New World Requires Something Different

If we're going to create something new - personally or collectively - it won’t come from recycling the same narratives that got us here. We must:

• Be willing to let go of old stories.

• Question the stories we’ve inherited.

• Make room for something we haven’t thought of yet.

We have to let that ‘thing’ emerge. Both individually and collectively.

Rev. Liz left us with a powerful question to ponder this week: What wisdom waits for me beyond the edge of what I already know?

• For me.

• For our community.

• For our country.

• For our world.

The edge isn’t something to fear (remember that fear and excitement feel the same in the body). It’s just where old thinking ends, and the space for something new opens up.

With gratitude,

Laura