Tired of all who come with words, words with no language
I went to the snow-covered island.
The wild does not have words.
The unwritten pages spread themselves out in all directions!
I come across the marks of roe-deer’s hooves in the snow.
Language but no words.
~ Tomas Transtromer

We are a people driven by words. Words come at us fast and furious from every direction. It is difficult to avoid them. Television. Radio. Email. Newspapers. Voices we want to hear and those that ooze into our conversations from the people who walk the daily path with us. Some we know. Most we don’t. Sometimes it can feel, at least to me, as if we are literally assaulted with words.

I want to be clear. I love words, some more than others. I love how they look on the page, how they sound pouring out of someone’s mouth. I love the way certain words feel in my own mouth…..velvet, charisma, alleluia, Deuteronomy…..to name a few. Words are the vehicle to tell our stories, to name our experiences, to shout our joy and weep our lament. Words are the Sacred’s gift to the human ones, a gift that carries with it immense responsibility.

But there are times when there are too many words. There are situations when there are so many words coming at you that you cease to hear them, to recognize them as language that means anything. In these times, I find that someplace in my brain shuts down and I cannot comprehend what is being said. I am thinking about this because over the last few weeks I have been in more than one situation where this was the case. Word was piled upon word in a way that left many of the deep intentions of those speaking lost to me. While people spoke I knew they meant well, that they believed deeply in what they were saying, but to my over-stimulated ears, their words fell unheard on the floor, puddling at my feet. Has this ever happened to you?

At one point, after a few days of this barrage of words, someone called for a time of silence. It was not a long period of silence at least in a meditation, deep listening kind of way. But that 60 seconds seemed like a gift from heaven to me. More than 1000 people not talking, making no sounds, not forming any words, simply silent. At one point I felt the agitation at this absence of sound for the person sitting beside me. Clearly this lack of words was not experienced for her in the same way I was having it. But when the silence was over and the words began again, I felt as if a balm had come over my whole being. I felt as if I might be able to hear again with new ears.

Silence is a gift. I believe this is true. In the scriptures, there is the story of God’s presence coming in the sound of ‘sheer silence’. In our every day, ordinary lives, silence is indeed golden. We have to work to have it, to allow its blessings to wash over us. Silence is not just for introverts or contemplatives, not just for people of certain generations. Silence can be a gift to the youngest among us helping them to exercise the muscle of deep listening. Silence can be what helps us move into prayer, discernment and be quiet enough to hear God’s movement that is always present. Silence is the gift of the night, the breath of the morning, the air that moves in the spaces of our thoughts and dreams.

May silence bless you this day. May the words that come your way be gentle and few. May the movement of the Spirit greet you without a sound.