Silence and love

Effortless acceptance

“The world’s finest tennis players train five hours a day to eliminate weaknesses in their game. Zen masters endlessly aspire to quiescence of the mind, the ballerina to consummate balance, and the priest forever examines his conscience. Every profession has within it a realm of possibility wherein the practitioner may seek perfection.” --Irving Yalom.

When I read this, I thought... wonderful. And I also thought... these words reveal how the author doesn’t fully understand what a Zen master is. The quiescence of the mind is not something to endlessly aspire to or seek; in seeking, one moves away from quiescence.

I thought that.

Obviously, my mind was not quiescent when I thought that.

There are always thoughts in my judging mind.

And that was a judgment.

Let’s accept that. Accept what I am. Accept things as they are. Accept me as I am.

"Accept (v.): late 14c., to take what is offered, from Latin acceptare, to take or receive willingly, frequentative of accipere, receive, get without effort."

Mmmmh... so “accept” does not require effort... interesting. To receive... willingly... to get what is offered, without effort.

To accept me as I am is to receive the offering that I am—as is, so simply. No effort required.

When we say, “Practice acceptance to deal with suffering, accept our human wounds, accept what we are (what is offered)...” all that is effortless!

What do we need to accept ourselves? What do we need to accept what we are, nothing?

Quiescence.

Quiescence (n.): from Latin quiescentia, “to rest, be quiet.”

Quiescence is to be quiet. To be silent.

Only a silent mind can accept what is offered without effort.

Embrace the gift.

Only a silent mind stops judging. Only a silent mind truly loves what is, without attachment, without seeking anything in return. A silent mind is a loving mind; it does not judge what is ugly or pretty, good or bad. A silent mind simply embraces, accepts what is… whatever is real… whatever gift life brings in this moment.

Accept… effortlessly… the quiescence... the silence... the love... we are.

What we are is quiescence… silence… acceptance… love.

We are already that… except when we think otherwise.

Then we think we need someone to teach us how to reach an advanced level of the game.

And we think we need something to be…what we already are.

Some think we need a teacher to unveil our blindness.

What Zen master can teach us how to do that, to be what we already are?

Joko Beck, a famous Zen master, said, "Life always gives us exactly the teacher we need at every moment. This includes every mosquito, every misfortune, every red light, every traffic jam, every obnoxious supervisor (or employee), every illness, every loss, every moment of joy or depression, every addiction, every piece of garbage, every breath. Every moment is the teacher, the Master we are seeking."

So it seems Zen masters are everywhere, every moment.

What do I need to do to see them and learn from them?

How can I have a silent mind? How can I listen?

No idea.

I can embrace my ignorance and explore what silence is.

Embrace the gift. Embrace what I am. Embrace myself.

The gift of silence has many forms. It’s a universe in itself. Silence can be calming, peaceful, tense, sacred, reflective, mysterious, awkward, liberating, healing, or even threatening…

For example, there is silence after publishing this post.

After the flash floods that killed hundreds last week in Valencia, we honored those who perished with silence.

When I gave a talk last week to a wide audience, there was an extremely long silence during the Q&A—almost four seconds!

After talking about layoffs at work, an impressive silence filled the big space. When we say, "A deep silence filled the house," it means every corner was full of silence—that is, nothing else could be there.

To keep silent about something means choosing not to speak of it. It is to keep a secret, to keep something in the shadows, maybe a wound. Then we say that someone "suffers in silence."

Let’s be silent for 10 seconds. Yes, I know it’s difficult, but let’s try. During this time, listen carefully to all the sounds around you and try to remember them. Are you ready?

1...

2...

3...

5...

6...

7...

8...

9...

10...

During this time, what did you do? Did you make any noise? Did you hear any sounds? Do you remember which ones? How many different sounds did you hear? There were sounds from the street, from a neighbor, from your house, from yourself. Did you hear your breathing? I’m sure you heard something. Silence is difficult to achieve; there is always some noise ready to break it. That’s why silence is so valuable.

Silence is often related to darkness, to night, to blackness, because night is quieter than day. Light is sound; darkness is silence.

But the opposite also happens. A blank sheet of paper is like silence; there is nothing written on it. A white canvas has no paint; it is also like silence, like a score without notes; silence can be either black or white, depending on the occasion.

Silence is also stillness, peace. Things make noise when they move, so when they are still, motionless, they are images of silence.

The desert, frozen surfaces, emptiness, and nothingness are always related to silence.

Everything that has little life is silent.

At its fullest, death is pure silence.

The best way to read is in silence, undisturbed, fully concentrated on the text. That’s why books are silent, like mimes who perform without a single word, only gestures.

Or old silent cinema, with actors you see screaming but can’t hear, and yet you can guess the sound from their expressions. It is a screaming silence.

There is a valley in the province of León, Spain, called Silence Valley. No river, no birds, and few insects. It is far from civilization, and you cannot hear cars or anything like that. You can hardly hear anything there. Imagine a walk there; you would hear your steps with perfect clarity: one step, another step, cloc, cloc, cloc, cloc, cloc, cloc...

Many artists have created artworks that explore silence. Yoko Ono, the famous Japanese artist married with John Lennon, has several silent-based shows. One is called "Matches," where each spectator enters a dark room with a match they may light to see what is happening on stage. Another piece, "Bicycle Piece for Orchestra," features a hundred actors pedaling silently on bicycles. In "Alarm Clock," the audience waits in silence for the alarm clock’s unexpected ring.

tic…toc…tic…toc…tic…toc…tic…toc…tic…toc…tic…toc

….riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing!!!!!…..

Silence has a powerful presence in art. The composer György Ligeti once lectured on the future of music by sitting silent for eight minutes as the audience erupted with noise and protest.

Antonio Muñoz Molina wrote of a "vow of silence" for adventurers who explore landscapes to discover purer forms of silence. A sailor told him that he only finds it four miles out at sea, and a speleologist said he hears pure silence underground.

Absolute silence, however, does not exist. Forty years ago, American composer John Cage entered an anechoic chamber, which absorbs all sound, and found he could hear two distinct sounds: his nervous system and blood circulating. Cage discovered that all humans always make these sounds. He then composed 4’33”, a piece of pure silence. No instrument needed, no training required.

Silence does not exist.

A silent mind does not exist.

Seeking what does not exist may not bring peace.

Maybe peace lies in the acceptance of this—this moment

With all its noise.

Accept… effortlessly… the gift that is offered… the love…the gift that you are.