The title of my blog is a pun on "Social Science", but I wanted to introduce the idea of being silent in the midst of being social. I guess the entry hinges on this question: what kind of experiment could I do on myself to be silent in social situations? And is all silence necessarily healthy?
There seem to be two radically different views on the function and purpose of silence. One is to say that silence is a form of violence or oppression. If I am in a room and I am the only one not talking, is this a kind of violence against me? Often,I experience situations where it seems necessary to talk, in order to be seen as a viable social being. If I am not talking at all, where is that not-talking truly coming from? On the other hand, observing others is also a kind of rich participation in the lives of others. To observe it to take part in the energies that surround all beings. To observe with attention is a way of even altering the situation, as the energy of observing always gets interspersed with those who are observed. In fact, both observer and observed occupy the same shared energy, as Rupert Sheldrake and others are noting in their experiments on morphic fields.
Observation is only one of many examples of how one interacts without saying too much. Another idea that interests me is the Quaker notion of speaking only what truly needs to be said. (Actually, this process is not only shared by Quakers, but Zen/Chan practitioners as well). Now, how does one know what 'needs' saying? I have to admit that I have only occasionally had this experience. I think that it happens when there is a hollow space just wide enough for voice to directly speak a need or a reality. And that happens only when I have exhausted the compulsion to talk, whether out of fear or the desire to please someone else. This voice is a voice that genuinely gives something, but it is not forced to give at all. In fact, the content of the speech is not at all as important as the space where the voice originates. It is generous precisely because it feels no compulsion to give at all. Giver and receiver are already one at that instance of the utterance.
The other side of this is that some people 'romanticize' silence as the cure-all for social ills. I think this is also a mistake, in the sense that it attaches too much weight to silence. Silence, like talking, is not that important. What's important is the mind itself that is silent or talking. If my silence comes from resentment, or wanting attention, or trying to avoid something painful, then it is a very noisy silence. It is the silence that still wants to be heard. But if the silence is a kind of by-product of finding stillness, then it is a very different experience altogether. In that instance, the person no longer feels that either silence or speech is particularly compelling. In that moment, both silence and speech come from the same source, and they are not opposites as we imagined them to be.
To go back to my theme of ''social silence": I think the best kind of silence is the stillness of genuinely feeling that nothing needs to be said, and yet nothing needs to be silent either. I can speak, then, but at that point, what is there really to say? The funny part of it is that it doesn't matter what I say or not say. If the saying is located in one's deepest awareness of mind, then even an incoherent grunt would be acceptable. But, if one is only grunting to be known as a wise person, then this is not the truest silence. It is only a pale imitation, trying to impress rather than attain a true equilibrium in all situations.
Speech and silence are only gifts when I have stopped using them to achieve certain ends. A true gift is freely given in that way. But how often have I been able to give so freely? The thought humbles me.
No comments:
Post a Comment