Wild Weather Meditation

Having nagged Mariia for months to adopt a meditation practice, on Sunday, she asked if we could could do one at the beach and listen to the waves. It was a glorious day and the temperatures well above average, so why not?

What I hadn’t realised was that the extremely high winds were wreaking havoc all along the coast. Upon our arrival at the beach, we noticed pebbles had been thrown up onto the promenade and the shore carved into mountains and valleys of shingle.

Beauty and the beast
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

It was certainly fresh. The tang of salt water and sea weed immediately assaulted our nostrils and the sheer energy of the crazy air stirred in us an equal excitement. The extra effort required to reach the beach against the opposition of the wind made our arrival there extra sweet.

Tuning in

Having found a spot in the sun and close to the protection of the groynes, we lay back and enjoyed the sea’s symphony. The bass of the powerful waves pounding the shoreline was most distinct. Above that was the tenor of the wind whipping across its surface. And if you listened carefully, you could hear the susurration of the tiny pebbles grating against the water’s edge.

The sea drowned out all other noises. Even the gulls could not be heard over the din it made.

Enjoying the deserted beach
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Sunlight played on our closed eyelids and, snuggled in several layers and a Dryrobe, I could imagine myself on a Caribbean island rather than the edge of the Atlantic. Protected from the wind, only gentle puffs of wind caressed my cheeks. It was bliss. My mind emptied of all but the sounds of the sea: a cherished moment of respite from an active mind.

Observational studies

After about half an hour, I wanted to watch the scene as well as listen. So I sat up and observed. The sea was charging the shore like a bull a matador – full of fury and pent up energy. No sooner did a wave make land than it would pull back and hurl itself once more. Gradually, it was working its way towards us, pushing a mound of sea foam at its vanguard.

Various gulls flew across the grey, their bellies and underwings silvered with sunlight. And the black groynes, facing West, looked like ancient standing stones set against the faint light of the sinking sun.

For a while, we felt as though we had stepped out of time, of our busy worlds and into something much more ancient and elemental.

Sea snow

Adding to the magical quality of our visit was the abundance of sea foam. Only when the seas are at their wildest do the seas create foam that floats through the air in great blobs like giant snow flakes. When I first witnessed it, I was thoroughly confused. How could snow descend in a clear blue sky? Now I know better, but despite clearly explaining its provenance to Mariia, she couldn’t help finding out for herself and getting a little wet in the process.

Sadly, not snowball making material
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

And it was wonderful to see her embracing her curiosity and letting go of worldly cares – just as we had. I’m hoping it will encourage her to meditate – in whatever location – rather more often.

Time to go

With the sun setting, it was time to head back.

The pier at sunset Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

A few pictures taken, I was ready to scale the substantial cliff face of scree. By the end, I found it easier to crawl than walk – but I got there and as a bonus, I found an unusual and intact shell waiting for me at the top.

I love the objects to be found on the beach: shells, hag stones, driftwood. There is something otherworldly about them. Having pocketed my treasures, we headed home to hot cocoa and the joy of central heating. But, I shall keep my shell as a talisman to remind me that the sea is always waiting, with its magical ability to transform our troubles to airy nothings.

Souvenirs of the sea
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

The Garden Meditation

This week, I have been experimenting with meditations. I always do my loving kindness one (setting that intention feels vital for me), but it can be done discreetly while waiting for an appointment or when a free quarter of an hour presents itself.

Finding time for my formal meditation with breathing exercises has become more challenging, however. As my creative life expands, my days contract. I do not want to change that, but I do want to continue meditating. Are there other ways of doing it?

Active meditation

One option is a more active meditation. If this sounds curious to you, or even wrong, be assured that the practise is as ancient as meditation itself. Walking meditations were often performed tracing a labyrinth. There is a beautiful one inside Chartres and within the grounds of the Quaker retreat at Woodbrooke. But you do not need a labyrinth to guide you or even an especially scenic route.

A walk in the wild
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Meditation is often wrongly assumed to be something one does in a silent space on a cushion with incense. Of course, you may wish to practise this way, but it is by no means necessary. My understanding of meditation is absolute attention to what is. And as we focus on something outside our thoughts: our breath, our footsteps, the details of the surrounding world, we are freed from our inner chattering brain and enter into something more eternal.

I was reading recently of someone who lived in a highly urban area and whose meditation practise was looking, really looking, at his surroundings: a cat at a window, wild flowers pushing through the pavement, the changing colours of the leaves. Such quiet focussing can be done on the way to work and would anchor us fully for the day ahead.

Garden meditation

But as you have probably guessed from the title, my favourite form of meditation is in the garden. The act of gardening, requiring physical and mental effort is an ideal way to meditate and feel virtuous at the same time.

My physical limitations mean that gardening sessions need to be quite short, but I can sit in my shed and admire the view.

A shed with a view
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

So, on Wednesday, that is exactly what I did. Instead of my usual morning pages, I focussed on the world around me and noted what I experienced. The hour passed in what seemed like minutes and I had many more observations than there is room for here. But here is a taster:

The sky is Hockney swimming pool blue. The clouds so faint, it looks as if they have been lightly erased from the sky with a rubber. Startling in its contrast is the Austrian pine in a complementary green. It is the only plant in the garden to have kept its primo verde shade. The rest, dulled by late summer and a long stretch of baking heat, have turned all military hues: khaki, olive, brown.

At eight o’clock, the traffic behind the house is working itself up to a crescendo of sound, while in the garden the magpies, arguing and clacking with a machine-gun fire repetition add nature’s percussion.

This early, there is almost no scent – only the fresh, clean smell of a pristine day. Later, the gentle breeze will bring the perfume of leaves as they respire in the sunshine.

Gradually, children trickle to the school nearby and add their mix of laughter, shrieks and shouts. I love their lack of inhibition. They voice, fully and roundly, their emotions.

We are predators, so the movement of all the garden’s visitors, above and below immediately catch my eye: the elegant silvered swerve of the seagull; the Dickens’ poor-ragged wing of the crow; the comical ecclesiastical walk of the collared dove as he searches beneath the apple tree for a tasty breakfast.

Emerging apples Image: Karen Costello=McFeat

I am very comfortable in my shed, seated upon my Lloyd loom chair, coffee mug at my side. But I am not alone for long. Hermione and my husband return from her walk and she explodes into the room with her usual enthusiasm.

Meditations are seldom possible in complete quiet in my house. But that needn’t be a problem. Life is fluid. The more able we are to embrace that, the easier finding peace amidst activity becomes.

I wanna hold your hand
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Hermione is a very affectionate creature, who like a small child needs constant attention. One way to satisfy this is to hold her hand – yes, really. An interruption? Of sorts, but I can consider the silky softness of her fur, her gentle breathing and feel gratitude for her company. In a moment, she will be off with her ball.

My garden offered an endless display to enchant all my senses. If you find the idea of meditation off-putting or difficult, I would recommend spending a little time in yours or a place of natural beauty. The aim, after all, is to make our lives a living meditation connecting with the world around us and listening to ‘that still small voice of calm’ within.

Morning Meditations

This last weekend, my husband was away at a trade show, so my normal routine of yoga and meditation in the quiet of my bedroom was disrupted. I had to get up early and let Hermione have her run around the garden. It was a beautiful day, so I decided to try it alfresco. Despite being a chilly 10 degrees Celsius, the experience was enhanced by the location. Weather permitting, I’ve decided to continue this way as far into winter as I dare!

It’s taken me a very long time to reach the point where I would not consider starting the day without these physical and mental exercises, but their benefits have been immeasurable. The good news is that one can start small and work up. I vividly remember the agonies of trying to concentrate through a five minute guided meditation every evening. Now my half hour, unguided one, goes in a flash. The key, it seems, is in regular practice (even if that is only ten minutes a day).

The sunniest spot in the garden early morning
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Finding what is right for you

I have lost count of the number of people I have spoken to who find meditation either impossible or something that they cannot seem to find time for. Perhaps part of the reason for this is that it is, as a product, hugely mis-sold. Meditation does not eliminate stress from your life (but it does help you deal with it); nor does it turn you into a calm, perfect human (though it might help smooth your edges) and most importantly, it does not require you to jettison all thoughts to reach a state of Zenlike bliss. Meditation, like prayer, is all about directing thought rather than obliterating it.

When random thoughts arise, we greet them and let them go, bringing our attention back to our point of focus. This may be our breath, a candle or a prayer. It requires discipline and endless repetition. The Dalai Lama continues to meditate for hours every day. Even he would not suggest that he had no need of further practice. So if you are looking for a quick fix, this isn’t for you. However, if you are looking for a method that has been proven to improve your mental and physical well-being, here are some approaches you might try.

Thoughts, like clouds, drift across our consciousness
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Ways in

If you look on-line, you will find countless and many very good sources on meditation. I have tried a number of them and have a rather eclectic mix that I call my own. The one that I think of as being the best way to begin though is the listening meditation, as it helps reinforce the idea of focus and requires no more from you than simply to sit quietly.

This is one that I love to do in the garden. Sit on the ground cross legged, or on a chair with your feet on the ground and back straight. (If you lie in a deck chair, you are liable to fall asleep!) Start to listen to all the sounds around you. As your meditation deepens, you will hear ever quieter sounds that you have probably never noticed before. You don’t have to close your eyes, but do if that makes it easier. Set a timer for at least ten minutes. Take a moment to return to the world and say a thank you for what you have heard.

Alternatively, you can keep the same posture and contemplate a specific aspect or even object – like a flower. As your focus deepens, you will uncover richer layers of observance. Again, do this for as long as you can and try to observe mindfully throughout the day.

Breathing meditations are probably the most common form. I use the Wim Hof method, because the breathing structure and breath-holds don’t give you much option to let your mind wander.

You may want to do this one lying down, as it can leave you a little light headed.

If you want to meditate throughout the day, taking a few moments to concentrate on the breath – filling your lungs fully and then feeling the air exit passing gently over your mouth – is a great way to ground yourself.

Devising your own regime

Perhaps I was a magpie in a past life, but I have a terrible habit of acquiring things and forgetting to let them go. My meditation practice is no exception. As a result, all the elements that I have found useful over the past ten years have now found a home in my current routine. I don’t recommend that you necessarily do the same, but I do think that it is helpful to take a flexible approach. One form of meditation may fit perfectly, another may not – or not at the moment. No-one is watching and certainly no-one is judging your performance. Do what works for you.

So what is my daily practice? It begins with a little yoga. The stretching and focus on my body seems to help me get into the right zone for meditation. What follows is a mix of Wim breathing, imaging and loving kindness prayer. The loving kindness meditation is a classic one and helps us find compassion in our attitudes to even those who are our enemies or simply irritate us to death.

The version I use, based on a haunting musical interpretation, goes like this:

May I be filled with loving kindness, may I be well

May I be filled with loving kindness, may I be well.

May I be peaceful and at ease, may I be whole.

And here’s the musical version if, like me, you enjoy singing.

This is performed by my very talented friend Elizabeth Harris with the equally talented Anna Hamilton

I begin my meditation lying down and with the breathing Wim advocates, then during the breath-hold, I do the loving kindness prayer. With each cycle of breathing, I add another loving kindness object. Starting with myself, I move outwards from family to friends to those I do not care for too much. Some like to think of an area they live in and move to the world. I do that sometimes too.

Towards the end, I focus on healing kindness and imagine my body repairing itself. I have exquisite gold tipped butterflies that inhabit my brain and spinal chord and keep it free from lesions. (Don’t laugh, my latest MRI shows it is working!)

During the final stage, I simply reorient myself in the world. (You can feel a bit spacey at this point). I observe all the beauty around me and give thanks for the privilege of inhabiting such a magnificent creation. And now I am ready for the day.

Nothing is perfect

If this is all sounding a little too idyllic, I should perhaps mention that I have a little helper when it comes to my morning rituals! Hermione would never wish to be left out of anything, so yoga is performed with care so as not to squash the dog under my belly and meditation is conducted between throws of her Kong.

Does this bother me? Not particularly. Life is never going to accommodate you perfectly and accepting interruptions, noise and distractions and working through them is very much part of the discipline of these practices. If we are waiting for the ideal situation, we would never start at all. So, let us begin.

Only trying to help! Hermione with her favourite Kong toy
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Developing Lovingkindness

Recently, a dear friend sent me a musical version of the lovingkindness meditation that she had recorded for her church. It was so haunting and lyrical that I have been singing it to myself, several times a day, ever since. It was something that I wanted to share, but was not sure how best to do so. Should I include it in the Valentine’s post? Should I include it in a meditation one? In the end, I decided to showcase it all by itself.

Good advice! Image: Jon Tyson on Unsplash

What is lovingkindness?

This blended word is one that is used freely by myself and others, but to be honest, I was not sure of its roots. It simply seemed wholesome and ideal. So I looked it up. According to The Buddhist Centre, the lovingkindness meditation is a translation of metta bhavana. Metta means love, in the non-romantic sense, in the Pali language. And what is Pali? It is the language in which the surviving Buddhist scriptures are written. It is not a living language, but rather a literary/liturgical one. Bhavana means ‘development or cultivation’. So, lovingkindness meditation is all about learning to develop a feeling of love and kindness both towards yourself and others.

A perfect place to focus Image: Zoltan Tasi on Unplash

Five steps to developing lovingkindess

Traditionally, the meditation follows five steps with each taking about five minutes to complete. For a more detailed explanation, please check out: https://thebuddhistcentre.com/text/loving-kindness-meditation. I’ve given an an abbreviated one here:

Step one: Focus on yourself in a positive way. Allow a sense of lovingkindness to embrace you. You might like to add a phrase or chant to help you, for example, ‘May I be happy and well,’ or to visualise your love as light.

Step two: Think about a good friend or someone you care deeply about. Send your lovingkindness to them. Again, use a phrase or image to help you.

Step three: Now consider someone you know but have no particular feelings about at all – a sort of neutral relationship. Extend your lovingkindness to them.

Step four: This is where things get a little harder. Here you want to envisage someone that you actively dislike. We are putting the ‘love your enemy’ directive into practice here. By focusing on their inherent humanity, and ‘that of God within them’, you can move beyond your negative feelings to wish them only love and in doing so free yourself from the bondage of hurt and anger.

Step five: In this final step, you include everyone above plus all the people of the world. You may start with your immediate environs and move out to your town, country, continent and end with the whole world. You can include the planet itself. The Earth could certainly do with some loving kindness.

When you are finished, you can come back to the present by wriggling fingers and toes, returning gradually to a non-meditative state.

Baby steps

I appreciate that meditation is not the easiest of things to learn, simple though it appears to be. We need to find time and a quiet space to do it and in this hectic world, that is not always easy (though lock-down may be a blessing here). I confess that I am not always very good at formal practice, though I find it less difficult when I combine it with my breathing exercises. I also find it much easier to sing! Were you to hear me in the shower in the morning, I would be singing my lovingkindness mantra. It is a wonderful way to set intention for the day, even though I may not get past breakfast in achieving it! I also sing it last thing at night and in my head any time in between to reset my grumpy, demanding ego.

Here’s the musical version:

My friend Elizabeth and Anna give a beautiful rendition of this hymn/meditation

Finding your own path

Whether we use meditation or prayer or quiet reflection, it doesn’t really matter. What does is that we cultivate lovingkindness for ourselves and those around us and in doing so contribute to a more compassionate, non-judgemental and loving world. For all the benefits, you may like to read the excellent article in Psychology Today : https://www.psychologytoday.com/gb/blog/feeling-it/201409/18-science-backed-reasons-try-loving-kindness-meditation

For me, this meditation benefits both myself and my relationships. When you are ill and somewhat disabled, it is very easy to adopt society’s view of you as a somewhat lesser person. Lovingkindness – in starting with the self – reminds you of your inherent value and helps keep self-criticism, depression and stress at bay.

It is also a great reset button when one’s mind spirals down the rabbit hole of negative thoughts in relation to others. If I can catch it in time, feelings of resentment, judgment and anger evaporate as I run through the three lovingkindness mantras of I, you, we. You cannot send wishes of peace and love to someone and remain angry at them for long.

Though I have been practising meditation for some years now, I am still a beginner. We are all beginners. Developing lovingkindness is just that – an endless path of progression. It takes time and commitment. But given the choice between spinning and repeating the rhetoric of division or quietly working towards placing lovingkindness at the heart of our relationship with all living things, I know which I would choose. Though practice may not make us perfect, it can certainly help move us in the right direction.

Storm Clouds Gathering – 2

My last post looked at a social response to the current situation, this will take a more individual one. No matter what the circumstances, there are always things that we can do to improve or at least modify a negative state of affairs.

Often, when we hear about coping with challenges, we are told about the ‘fight or flight’ response. In truth, there is a third, and much more common reaction and that is ‘freeze’. In the natural world, this is a good one. Many predators respond to movement, so standing still is a perfect camouflage. However, in our highly developed world where the predators are most often invisible, the freeze response is the least effective option. Like the ostrich sticking its head in the sand, we will not make ourselves a smaller target only blind to our options. (And for those who are interested, ostriches do not stick their heads in the sand out of fear but rather to bury and turn their eggs!)

The much maligned ostrich! Shannon Litt on Unsplash

Taking the right actions

The first suggestion I would make comes from the scouting movement: Be prepared. Here it is all about having the right kit in your metaphorical backpack. As a living embodiment of Murphy’s law, I have only managed to stay sane(ish) through the help of preparing myself for the next catastrophe. They have come thick and fast over the last few years, but despite the fact that I’d rather they’d stop, they have a diminishing impact. Why? Because I live my life with a firm commitment to building my resilience. I cannot change the vagaries of fortune, but I can equip myself to withstand their assaults. That said, I do not always succeed and am no stranger to despair; however, without these preparations, I know things would have been much worse.

There is another scouting phrase that I used to find a little silly, but post dog ownership (the first) realised was very wise. It goes: ‘There is no such thing as bad weather, only inappropriate clothing.’ This applies in both the literal and metaphorical sense, and as the storm clouds gather, I would like to share my foul weather wardrobe.

Never mind the weather Image: Chris Whitehead on Unsplash

Headgear

Since our minds are most vulnerable in times of stress, let’s start here. There are any number of ways that we can strengthen our mental resilience and I shall mention those that have worked for me. Essentially, practice those things which uplift you.

Bibliotherapy – Reading books where the protagonist triumphs over adversity helps us do the same. These can be fiction or non- fiction; it really doesn’t matter. Though bibliotherapy may be a new form of mental health treatment, it is as old as story-telling itself. Myths, fairy-tales and ancient tragedies all give the same message: life is not easy or necessarily just, but if we behave with honour and courage, whatever the outcome, we have lived life well.

Meditation/Prayer – There is now an enormous body of evidence supporting the idea that a spiritual life can increase resilience and promote mental well-being. From the companionship of church attendance to the calm acceptance of Buddhism, each promotes discipline (you need to go there/do it) and a more positive view of life. Most religions are based on love and hope – two very good emotions to get you through dark times.

And if you do not feel comfortable with an organised spiritual practice, quiet contemplation focusing on loving-kindness or gratitude will bring similar benefits.

Breathing – The simplest and quickest way to rebalance the mind is through conscious breathing. This is used in meditative practices, but it can work in a much less formal way. Here are two methods that are easy to adopt whenever you feel your anxiety rising. The first involves taking a deep breath and counting to six (or more) and then breathing out and counting to eight (or more). Keep doing this until you feel your mind coming back into balance. The second is a Wim Hof tip. Whenever you feel stressed, hum! (Quietly if you are in a meeting.) Through concentrating on the breath involved in humming and reducing the number of breaths you take in a minute, you will immediately feel better.

Building mental fortitude is essential in times of uncertainty and change. We cannot possibly hope to survive and thrive unless we have a clear head to steer us.

Take a deep breath Image: Victor Garcia on Unsplash

Body protectors

Reducing exposure – Since there is currently no cure for the Coronavirus, our best course is to avoid it. Reducing exposure is the first and most important tactic -protecting both ourselves and those we care about. None of us can remove ourselves from any contact with the outside world, though, so here are a few suggestions for this disease and better general health.

Strengthening the lungs. The most vulnerable part of our body when under attack from Covid -19 is our lungs and it would be wise to strengthen them as much as possible. I have already mentioned the Wim Hof method, but if you don’t fancy that, there are several other options. Rush University Medical centre came up with some top tips for optimal lung health and these include: deep breathing, developing good posture, laughing and singing. For the full list, please visit: rush.edu/health-wellness/discover-health/8-tips-healthy-lungs

Hydrotherapy – There is some evidence to suggest that hot and cold treatments can boost the immune system. Cold immersion certainly brings numerous benefits and I’ve found it helpful in many ways.

Vitamin D – The sunshine vitamin. The jury seems to be out on this one in terms of the Coronavirus, although many believe it boosts the immune system. It certainly helps ensure healthy bones, teeth and muscles. If you are finding yourself stuck inside this winter, it may well be worth having your vitamin D levels checked. Ensuring your body has the right amount will only do you good.

A healthy body is the best defence against all illnesses. And the surest route to a healthy body is through exercise. The NHS recommends that we try to be as active as possible every day; with strengthening exercises twice a week and a total of 150 mins of moderate intensity exercise/ 75 vigorous intensity exercise every week. Ultimately, we want to do as much as we are able and then a little bit more! My exercise is very low level intensity, but it always makes me feel better!

Exercise such as walking and cycling gets you where you want to be! Image: Max Berger on Unsplash

History lessons

One of the most popular phrases at the moment is, ‘In these unprecedented times.’ I’ve even used it myself. Yet, on reflection, these are only unprecedented for those living today – go back just a century, and things will look eerily familiar.

The Spanish ‘flu, coming directly after WWI, must have felt apocalyptic. And going back further in time, outbursts of plague and other serious illness was commonplace. And my point is this: We survived.

Human beings are quite remarkably resilient. People may speak of end-times and of unprecedented difficulties, as if this were the worst thing that has ever happened. (It isn’t.) I am not so naive as to imagine that when the Covid element of this settles, all will be well. We are already witnessing the economic impact that may unravel for years to come. The US is in turmoil politically and socially and our own country rent with division over Brexit and inequality.

None of us can predict the future. However, what we do know is that storm clouds form, the rain comes and is replaced by sunshine. Let us equip ourselves – body and soul – to be able to cope with any kind of weather. And like the scouts, be prepared.

The Sound of Silence

Most of us have a very ambivalent view of silence and for many, it is something to be avoided at all costs. It is indicative of boredom and loneliness. Some of us are so uncomfortable with silence that we surround ourselves day and night with the distractions of radio, television and social media alerts.

Silence, perhaps, recalls wet Sunday afternoons when we were told to play quietly, or when we were reminded that children were to be seen and not heard.

Yet, silence is also bliss, yearned for by those of us caught in the whirl-wind of modern existence. Like the Chinese symbol for Yin and Yang, it is both beneficial and detrimental, active and passive, good and evil. Like solitude and loneliness, how we perceive silence and how we work with it will help determine which of these two opposites holds true.

When silence is harmful

There are few things more damaging to an individual than to have their voice unheard or dismissed. To the speaker, it can feel like they have been gagged and they are likely to either act out or become more silent as a result. Silencing others is easily done and often unintentional, but it can be just as easily remedied. If we can listen with sensitivity and play back what we have been told, we can relieve their stress and strengthen our relationship. We don’t have to agree with what they are saying either – simply acknowledge it. So if your child, partner or friend is being especially quiet, it might be the time to check that they are feeling heard.

Be quiet! Image: Scott Umstaddt on Unsplash

The silent treatment

One of the most powerful punishments is to give the silent treatment. By blocking all communication, you remove the chance for the person to apologise (if that would be appropriate) or even find out what is wrong. It is the most pernicious of punishments and the rise of ‘ghosting’ on social media is a worrying one. Painful though this is, it is a result of immaturity on the part of the ‘ghoster’. Should we encounter this treatment in the real or virtual world, we are best to get on with our lives and without them. Nothing feeds their power more than your insistence on interacting.

Alone with your thoughts

Finally, silence can be a frightening place, as it leaves us alone with our thoughts. With no distractions, it is easy to spiral into the old grooves of negative thinking. Our brains do not like the quiet and without training will simply fill the void with random images – most likely anxious or upsetting ones. I’m sure this is why we so often fill our lives with sound – as a barrier to thinking. However, the sound we introduce only drowns out thoughts; it does not resolve them. A better way, is to gradually acclimatise yourself to silence – making quiet times for reflection and growth not worry and regret.

When it is right to make a noise

Oppressive regimes are the first to silence their populace. No tyrant wants your feedback on his governance. Fortunately, if you are reading this, you are in a place where free speech is valued and protected. It is a privilege that far too little of the world enjoys. But with that privilege comes the responsibility to speak up when the times require it.

The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.

Attr. Edmund Burke

We all moan about the world and its injustices, but we seldom act on our complaints. If we want to see positive change, we need to speak out against injustice wherever it may be. However, a word of caution. For our voices to express the right message, we first need silence. In the Quaker tradition, this waiting in silence for the right course of action is known as discernment. Hasty shouting and the clamour of outrage seldom result in the best outcomes. Quiet contemplation, listening to all sides and giving time for reflection before we speak is much more likely to have a positive and long-term impact.

A bullhorn or a quiet word? Image: Photo by Clem Onojeghuo on Unsplash

Perfect silence

Much as we avoid it, we all need silence. Spend a few hours listening to noisy neighbours, building work or a barking dog and you soon realise its value. Depriving ourselves of it is ultimately like depriving ourselves of oxygen or sleep. We are failing to give our bodies and minds a time to recharge, reflect and simply reboot.

Getting comfortable in silence

I have always worked in silence, but learning to live in it for the majority of the day was hard. Ones thoughts are not always good companions and I had to calm the increasingly panicked cacophony in my head. I had to learn to make friends with silence and pacify the background chatter.

If I were to suggest this was easy, I would be lying. It has taken literally years of practice to reach my present stage and I have much further to go. But what I have discovered is that now I actively seek moments of quiet and relax into them as into a warm bath.

You can achieve this comfortable silence in any number of ways: prayer, meditation, walking or yoga style exercise. You do not need to sit cross-legged chanting ‘Om’. The good news is that they all work equally well. Whatever works for you is the one to pursue.

I have used all the above, though my favourite, long walks, is now denied to me. But I’m not one to give up. Part of the joy of a ramble is interacting with nature and we can do that whatever our situation. We only need to get outside.

A wonderful exercise, when you’ve found a quiet and comfortable place, is to try a listening meditation. The paradox is that we still the mind by focusing on noise and the more quiet we are, the more sound we will hear. More advanced practitioners will not be perturbed by someone using a weed whacker in the garden next door, but I am certainly not at that stage and I would advise you try without disturbance.

Just the other day, I was doing this. Sitting by myself on the bench, I started identifying all the sounds I could hear. Some were obvious such as the hum of conversation from the neighbours’. Then I stretched to hear other noises. There was the insect buzz of a lawn mower in use hundreds of yards away; the ebb and flow of traffic; the ceaseless chatter of the birds, with individual voices becoming distinct; the gentle breeze brushing over my cheek; my breath and finally the barely perceptible backtrack of my tinnitus.

Within the time it took to hear all this, my body was moving into an ever-more restful state. There were no distressing thoughts or worries, purely a sense of calm. The sound of silence is strangely not silent after all – it is the glorious, ever-changing melody of life.

Let nature provide the sound-track Image: Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash