Silence

    Have you ever been in charge of a group of children? If so, you probably will agree with me if I say that one of the most challenging yet most important things to teach them is silence. It's just not something that seems to come easily, yet it is a skill that is vital for them to be able to succeed. 

    I remember one time when my students and I were forced into silence. It happened in Zimbabwe during a rousing recess of Auntie, Auntie Over. While we were yelling and running, the neighbor boy across the fence came outside. Hanging from the eve of his house was a gigantic nest of bees. For some reason that remains unknown, he decided to torment them by poking their hive with a long pole.

    The bees did not appreciate this invasion into their privacy. In seconds, they swarmed angrily out to see what was the matter. Apparently bees have great peripheral vision. They saw us across the fence and decided that we must be the ones to blame for their discomfort. So, organizing their troops, they hurried to the defense. 

    Suddenly we found ourselves racing to get away. The bees followed us across the yard, through the garage, and all the way to the back door of the house. Two casualties ensued: The yardman, who was caught in the line of fire, and the dog, Rhino, who had capered along with us as we ran. 

    We waited, hoping the bees would return to their side of the fence, but it seemed to be in vain. What were we to do? There was still work to finish in our little thatched school. Finally we decided to brave the bees and return to work.

    Our mud-brick school was not bee-proof. We hunkered at our desks, trying to move quietly and slowly, speaking in low tones and whispers. The bees buzzed threateningly around, looking for the smallest indication of violence from us. 

    In an incredibly short time, the children finished their work and tiptoed out the door toward the house. I don't know when I have ever seen students so focused and quiet on a normal school day, but how they could work when they were forced to be silent!

    Most of us find that we are afraid of the quiet times when we are free of distractions and our deep inner thoughts are finally able to make themselves heard. We do anything we can to avoid silence! We suffocate it with laughter, stifle it with a cell phone, or yell at it to "Shut up!" before turning to our favorite light novel. 

    But we know it's useless. Silence can't shut up. It already has. It's really our inner selves that we are yelling at. Honestly, most of us don't want to hear what our inner man is saying. We squirm in discomfort, because as long it's noisy, we can convince ourselves that we're doing fairly well. But when it becomes quiet? Oh, that is when the going gets tough.

    All those old memories and mistakes come out of nowhere and beg to be taken care of. They want apologies, forgiveness, love, and all sorts of things that look too hard to give. So we try to drown out their cries with any type of noise we can: fast cars, loud music, funny stories, anything. 

    But I challenge you. Try silence. Find a spot in the woods. Turn off your phone. Give silence a chance. 

    If you are strong enough and brave enough, silence will do it's quiet work and you will become a better person for it.

                                                                    Silence

I never thought I’d be afraid of silence;

Of listening to the whisper of my thoughts.

But the truth is, sometimes I welcome a storm—

There’s no way I can hear anything

Over the drumming rain and roaring wind.

 

I know my mom used to say

That she never worried about us until it got quiet,

And now I know what she means—

When it’s so quiet, I’d welcome a little noise,

Just so I don’t have to worry about

The mischievous children in my mind.

There are days when the wind doesn’t blow,

When there is no hail, no rain,

And it’s just me and cold bleak stillness,

And I’m so afraid of the silence that I must run,

Must find some sound somewhere

Behind which to hide.

 

And that is when I reach out my hand

Like all those whom I used to scorn

And pick up a device (or is it vice?

It’s hard, some days, to tell the difference—

In fact, sometimes I’m not really sure there is one.)

 

It’s been so long I’ve almost forgotten

The sweet and sour taste of silence;

The way it rolls across my tongue

And reminds me that tasting silence

Is not an act of boredom,

But of courage.

 

    The subject of silence is among those explored in one of my favorite allegories, The Knight in the Rusty Armor by Robert Fisher. It's not a very large book; mine is thin and paperback. But every time I read it, I'm impressed all over again with how many truths are hidden inside. It's a quick, easy read that captures my imagination every time I open it.

    In case you are afraid of dry books, this one is not! There are sneaky pieces of humor that have been hidden all over inside. If you read it with an open mind, you may find yourself taking a journey you didn't know you needed to make.