An Exercise of Sitting in Silence

We live in a noisy world. It’s hard to find pure silence to simply listen, ignore the busyness of your mind, and relax without interruption.

When I saw an invitation to participate in a Contemplative Sit at the end of the daily devotion I received via email from Richard Rohr, I clicked on it. I instinctively knew I needed the 12-minute exercise to calm my mind, body, and soul. I didn’t realize how hard it would be.

The Reverand Dr. Barbara Holmes led the video presentation. The screen was a lifeless gray, with the title “Contemplative Sit” half grayed out. Once the single chime of a small bell rang to begin the exercise, I closed my eyes, thinking I could better concentrate on breathing in and out. It wasn’t to be.

I thought about last night’s sunset, the high gray clouds reflecting the sun’s warm glow. Our mother star had long since sunk below the Allegheny Mountains. I waited then for the warm beauty of the sky and now for a fulfilling silence.

I heard a crash from the video I knew wasn’t part of the meditation. I opened my eyes and saw the countdown to skipping another YouTube ad. I immediately clicked it away. Then I noticed the words, “We focus on the breath going in and out of the body.” I realized I needed to keep my eyes open to be fully engaged.

At that moment, however, I became acutely aware of all the noise around me. My neighbors across the street were mowing their yard in their usual father-and-son tandem. The sound of the two mowers competed with the tinnitus in my ears. I had buzzing external and internal competition to distract me.

Ironically, only then did I hear the video’s faint ebbing and flowing of wind rustling over a prairie, a desert, through tree limbs. I couldn’t tell, and it didn’t matter. I concentrated on my breathing. I unconsciously rubbed my hands on my thigh bones down to the knees and back to the hem of my kaiki shorts.

A single-engine plane flew a few hundred feet over the house, probably from the local private airport eight miles away. Its sturdy engine soon carried it out of earshot.

Was I failing this intentional time of contemplation? I let go of that judgment and refocused on my breathing. I spied a mother robin bobbing in the grass beneath the red maple tree in our front yard. She had speared an insect, likely to help feed her second brood of the summer.

My cell phone dinged. Another person in the group text commented on my friend Mike’s release from the hospital. I breathed a breath-prayer of thanks and gratitude.

A morning breeze rustled the leaves and bounced the smaller limbs of the maple outside my window. Still, I heard the wind’s faint rhythm coming and going from the video. Two Goldendoodles from the neighbors down the street barked, a regular occurrence. I continued breathing, letting go, and focusing on silence without self-criticism.

A pair of Northern Cardinals flew into the maple tree, and the video bell sounded the meditation’s end. I felt free, rooted, and ready to face the rest of the day.

I hadn’t planned on doing this meditation. But I have always enjoyed spontaneous activities that arouse my senses of the world around me. This morning’s experience was an unexpected but necessary infusion into another day of joyful living.

(I have included the link to the meditation if you are interested.)

© Bruce Stambaugh 2023