In silence — but not

As I sit in silence, there is no silence — nor has there ever been, and there will never be, for me, I believe. Oh, there is silence, no doubt, but it exists differently for each of us.

Physical silence — is there even such a thing for a sentient being that can hear? One can be silent, but to experience complete physical silence — is it possible?

I sit silent, not making a sound, yet I do, because I don’t think it possible for myself to sit in complete physical silence. Philosophically, perhaps I sit in silence with a profound awareness of the variable static that reverberates within and without my being.

I recall the times I’ve purposefully sat silent, attempting to mute all sounds. Turning off the device that oscillates in frequency, bringing voices and music. Silent — yet I sit and I hear.

I’ve sat in the woods, by waterfalls, on the shore of the sea, along the banks of creeks and rivers. I’ve gone underwater in pools, lakes, ponds, streams, and the ocean. I’ve sat in empty rooms. I’ve sat with fingers in my ears, plugged with wax, and even moldable foam.

Silence? No — just a lesser degree of oscillation, depending upon my selected location and my awareness of my surroundings.

I am not looking for answers from anyone in regard to this. I’m simply pondering and contemplating the possibility of physical silence — not a single sound. Impossible for me to experience, and maybe for you as well.

Sit. Be silent and listen. Can you hear silence? It depends on your definition of silence, I suppose.

Some days it may be that low-level reverberation between your ears, within your own head — the sound of energy and life within you — that is silence. Perhaps that, coupled with the beat of your own heart… thump, thump.

Alone in the woods, silence is the rustle of the forest floor as a squirrel rummages for food, the movement of leaves as wind moves through trees.

Along the shore of the ocean on a crowded beach — this is a different kind of silence. The hum of waves breaking and being absorbed by sand, the voices of those around you absorbed by the energy and charge of the earth. You can tune this to your liking. Have you tried? If not, I hope you will. And if you have never had the chance, I hope you do.

The silence of a waterfall — a static sound uniquely different at each one, like a fingerprint on a person. I don’t believe there are two waterfalls that sound exactly the same. They each live their own existence, emitting a silence you must witness.

Look — I’ve turned silence into sound. But for me, it has always been. Silence — not only is it sound, it is an experience that can be felt as well.

And still, I have never heard silence…

Or I have heard it all along.