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Silent and Still



As you might have read in my previous essay, I have been on an amazing journey for the past month, experimenting with keeping entirely silent. I started the experiment on the 12th of September and finished on the 13th of this month (the first anniversary of my mother’s passing).


The intent behind taking this pause had multiple facets. Easily the most significant was to create space to stay present so that I could ride the waves of emotion as the 13th drew nearer. Besides this, the hope was to use the space that silence begot to immerse into being creative and exploring spiritually.




 

During the first of the two phases of the experiment the focus was to acclimatize to staying silent and bask in the space that it created sans any agenda. To play a witness, in other words. To simply be.


I can’t emphasize enough how good it has felt to give myself this break to simply be in silence. It has been a treat to extend mindful awareness towards the sonic joys of life that silence can bring forward. Joys like birds chirping in the early morning. Or the sound of wind howling as rain pours around you. All in all, it felt cathartic and I had a lot of fun spending time in nature, cooking more meals, listening to music, chilling with Lola (my Dog), reading, and of course - doing nothing.



 

I heard you, In the silence of this afternoon. I saw you, In the darkness of last night. And through the tears, It was only you who made me laugh. Daffodil, you have caused my goblet to overflow. And I’m finally learning that longing for you is a longing I will never need to know.
 


As I had hoped, the initial phase of “being” served as a perfect precursor for the consequent phase of being creative. With the onset of October, I felt my creative flood gates open. The intense pouring outside is matched by one inside. Most of it has been channelized into writing (both poetry and essays) and visuals (shooting slow moments and outfits). That said, I also spent time making music (obviously without singing).

The same has been true for spiritual exploration. I could immerse myself in deep introspection and reflection aimed at synthesis. And synthesis it begot. Raised by goddesses, how fitting that synthesis found me through the verses of a Goddess in the making. She reminds me that all the things I have ran from, I must now bring close to me as I can. I must do the only thing left to be done, open my mouth and take it all (merci, Florence!). Alas, I shall swallow it all - including the vex of shut gates. More on this (and in lesser abstract terms) in a future essay.

 

It’s October. When daffodil blossoms, And honey flows. Against all odds, Will they meet again?



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