Tiny Buddha

Tag: silence

  • The Power of Silence: How to Free Yourself from Painful Thoughts

    The Power of Silence: How to Free Yourself from Painful Thoughts

    “Within you there is a stillness and a sanctuary to which you can retreat at anytime and be yourself.” ~Hermann Hesse

    As a child, I hated when someone told me to sit still and be quiet, and rightly so. I was young and full of energy; every minute of being still and silent was a minute of missing out on this magnificent life.

    Then, as I grew older and entered into teenage and young adult years, it grew into a fear with a capital “F” of being still and silent; for as soon as I was quiet and still, the noise in my head got increasingly louder and more powerful.

    If the chatters of my head were beautiful, joyful, and empowering, that would have been uplifting. But they were voices of judgment, negativity, and self-loathing, nothing else.

    To me, those chatters, voices, and thoughts were me. My head would chatter day and night, even in my sleep. Noise, heaviness, thinking, and more thinking, sometimes my head felt like it was about to explode.

    I wasn’t even aware I was thinking. I was just on autopilot. I would act and react and get triggered into waves of emotions and feelings, which churned into more turbulence, heaviness, and weariness.

    Everything became dysfunctional because I couldn’t interact effectively with people or life. My whole reality, both inside and outside, was warped.

    I was a paranoid, fearful, self-loathing, neurotic human being, so my life and world were full of fear, anger, and depression. Life was an endless battle, as everyone and everything was always against me.

    I got to the point of total exhaustion. I eventually lost all coherence and overdosed on pharmaceutical codeine painkillers, just so I could have peace, silence, and rest. I was totally depleted, and I felt I had lost my battle with life.

    Lying in the hospital, slipping in and out of consciousness, I deprived someone else who was probably critically injured and in need of the bed. But I had a moment of peace and silence because I left my body and head.

    As I stood and looked at my weary body and still very heavy head, I was in the silence. At that moment, the question arose, “If I can see and look at the ‘me’ lying on the bed, then I must not be ‘me,’ so who am I?”

    Of course, I never spoke about this or they would have said I was having hallucinations and sent me straight to the loony bin.

    Amazingly, I survived and took off far away where I couldn’t be found, nor forced to take medication. It was inevitable; I had started on the quest. I had to find that silence again, for it was real.

    What was that silence and stillness that I glimpsed? I knew from that day on there was something more. Over the course of the following years, I rediscovered and nourished that silence, and it grew to be my anchor, healer, and guide. Here’s what I learned.

    Nature’s core is silence.

    Make time for yourself every day to connect in some way with nature. Walk barefoot on the grass, swim in the ocean, watch the sunset, stroke an animal, or even weed the garden. Submerge yourself in nature, and you will experience silent, unconditional, utter bliss and peace from your core.

    Every time I’m in nature, I find that time literally stops and thoughts quiet. All that’s left is the beautiful sounds of birds chirping, water trickling, winds howling, and all the gaps of nature’s silence in between.

    Feed and grow that silence.

    Reading spiritual books or articles, listening to enlightened masters, practicing yoga or qigong, listening to music that you resonate with, dancing and moving your body will feed and nourish your silent core within.

    Meditation is the ultimate channel and food for inner silence. However, unlike nature, which is effortless silence, meditation may be slightly more challenging. Sitting or lying there unmoving and in quietude, the brain may seem anything but silent or still.

    I used to find that whenever there was drama in my life, my brain would get louder. The thoughts were more controlling and dominating, the emotions more intense, and my energy zapped. It was almost like my thinking brain was sucking up all the energy from my entire body.

    But I continued to feed and grow that silence by persisting and holding in quiet meditation, or nourishing it through active meditative activities that anchored it.

    Trust the silence.

    Even if the silence was minuscule, I always chose to stay in it. The less attention I paid to the thinking mind, the softer and dimmer the thoughts became, and the more the silence and stillness grew.

    Instead of resisting or fearing your thoughts, simply be aware. Allow them to be, but don’t attach to them. You have a body that feels and a brain that thinks. They are a part of you, but they are not you.

    In silence, you become aware that you have the freedom and power to choose the types of thoughts you wish to entertain and empower, and the thoughts you wish to ignore and diffuse.

    Silence and stillness came hand in hand. Together, they were my best friends. I loved my early mornings and nights just before bed, for when I shut my lids in meditation I disappeared into the void of peace, stillness, and silence, my essence.

    Silence and stillness are teachers.

    In silence, my head was lighter and clarity emerged on its own accord. Unfathomable strength revealed itself, which helped me let go of my painful past, forgive those who had hurt me, release pent-up emotions, and unfold into compassion and my true nature of unconditional love. Through the healing, my silence is now infused with deep wisdom.

    —

    Sometimes, like myself, you may find yourself careless and allow this connection with your silence to lapse. Perhaps your excuse might be, “No time, too hard, later, tomorrow, next week, after I finish this project, after I solve that issue. Life’s too good right now, I’m fine so I don’t need it.” Then bang!

    A big wave inevitably comes along, catches you off guard, and dumps you straight into the mouth of the controlling mind again. The silence may shrink and disappear. That’s only human.

    Hold yourself in the space of compassion and return to the voice in the heart. That will lead you back into silence and stillness. The voice in my heart is the silent voice, no words, simply a knowing.

    The more I listen and follow, the stronger it becomes. It has about it an air of strength, love, wisdom, and joy. It works magic, it leads me to meet people I am meant to meet, go to places I am meant to go, and do things I am meant to do.

    With devotion and commitment, the work of maintaining and sustaining your silence will naturally become a joyful routine and not a chore.

    There will also come a day when there is only silence and stillness, and that is all. All else arises out of that silence. And flow emerges. The result: Reverence, unconditional peace and love, and infinite possibilities.

    What does this mean? You transcend your limited physical reality, know the true bigger picture, and now integrate your wisdom and truth into manifesting your soul purpose in life.

  • 20 Ways Sitting in Silence Can Completely Transform Your Life

    20 Ways Sitting in Silence Can Completely Transform Your Life

    “Silence is a source of great strength.” ~Lao Tzu

    For over two years I spent one out of every four weeks in silence. At the time I was living at a Zen Monastery and every month we would have a week-long silent retreat.

    During this retreat we sat meditation in silence, ate in silence, worked in silence, and only communicated through hand gestures and written notes.

    At first living like this was hard, but over time I learned to grow to appreciate silence. By the time I left I learned that silence was my friend and teacher.

    What did silence teach me?

    1. Satisfaction

    I used to think I needed to watch TV every night. But at monastery I went without and discovered I didn’t need it.

    Silence taught me to be happy with less. Pick something that’s weighing you down and let it go. Your life will thank you.

    2. Expression

    When you can only talk by writing a note, you only say what’s important. Before the monastery I talked a lot but said little.

    Silence taught me that a few simple words well spoken have more power than hours of chatter. Think of one simple thing you can say that would help someone feel better and say it.

    3. Appreciation

    Being able to speak makes life easy, but when I couldn’t talk I learned how much I relied on others.

    Silence taught me to appreciate the value of relating to others. The next time you see your friends or family, try to really listen. Deep listening expresses deep appreciation.

    4. Attention

    Several times at my first retreat I thought my phone was vibrating. But then I would remember I didn’t have my phone. It showed me how my phone divided my attention.

    Silence taught me how important it is to let go of distractions. The next time you are with someone you care about, try turning off your phone and putting it away. It will make paying attention easier.

    5. Thoughts

    I once sat a retreat next door to a construction project. What amazed me was how easily my thoughts drowned out the noise. I realized if my thoughts were this loud, I’d better make them as wise as possible.

    Silence taught me the importance of shaping my thinking. Take time each day to notice your thoughts and let go of thoughts that don’t serve you.

    6. Nature

    Because I sat retreat in every season, I know that the sound of wind in fall is different than it is in winter.

    Silence taught me to notice nature. Take a short walk outside in silence and you’ll discover the wisdom and peace that nature has to offer.

    7. Body

    During retreat I noticed that whenever I got lost in thought, I lost track of my body. And when I focused on my body, my thoughts would calm down.

    Silence taught me to be in my body. Close your eyes and ask, “What sensations do I feel in my hand?” Learning to feel your body can calm your troubled mind.

    8. Overstimulation

    Whenever I went into town after retreat, the world seemed so loud and fast. I came to realize how much our senses have to process most of the time.

    Silence taught me the importance of reducing the stimulation. Enjoy some quiet time everyday. The less you see and hear, the more settled your mind can become.

    9. Sound

    People would come to the monastery and remark how quiet it was. But living at the monastery I knew all the noises, from frogs, to owls, to the sound of sandals on the sidewalk.

    Silence taught me that the world is a rich texture of sounds. Sit in front of your house and close your eyes. You’ll be amazed at what you hear if you listen long enough.

    10. Humanity

    During retreat I was surrounded by imperfect people who were doing their best. Some were happy, some were sad, but all were wonderfully human.

    Silence taught me that people display great beauty. Find a good spot to people watch with an open heart. What you see may inspire you.

    11. Space

    For a long time anytime something difficult came up, I would just distract myself. But retreat taught me that if I avoided something it would never go away.

    Silence taught me that space helps me face hard times. The next time you face something difficult, pause and honor whatever’s arising.

    12. Love

    I used to think love was this big thing. But in retreat I found that I felt love for so many things.

    Silence taught me that love can be simple. Think of someone you haven’t said I love you to recently and tell them.

    13. Courage

    I used to think courage was about facing danger, but during retreat I realized that real courage is about facing yourself.

    Silence taught me the courage it takes to be still. When we stop moving everything we’re running from catches up. The next time you are afraid, stop and wait for it to pass. There is immense courage inside your heart.

    14. Perseverance

    Every retreat reminded me that speaking is easy, but staying quiet is hard.

    Silence isn’t flashy, but it has an immense power to endure. The next time someone doubts you, instead of disagreeing, silently vow not to give up. Action speaks volumes.

    15. Faith

    I often ask for reassurance or feedback. But living in silence meant I had to trust my instincts.

    Silence taught me to have faith in myself. The next time you begin to feel anxious, sit in silence and see if you can find the space of deep faith that lives in your heart.

    16. Honesty

    I used to lie so I wouldn’t have to explain myself. But when I couldn’t talk I began to notice this impulse and how much it degraded my integrity.

    Silence taught me the importance of telling the truth. Notice times where you tell little lies and try telling the truth instead. It isn’t always easy but it’s the first step to trusting ourselves and others. 

    17. Gratitude

    During retreat I didn’t have a lot of comforts. It helped me see how much I took for granted and how much I had to be grateful for.

    At the end of every day sit in silence and ask yourself what am I grateful for. You’ll be amazed at the blessings you discover.

    18. Simplicity

    I used to love drama and conflict. But at retreat I found I was happier when I kept it simple.

    Silence taught me that simplicity and joy are close companions. Pick one space in your home you could simplify. Keep it simple for one month and enjoy the ease it offers your life.

    19. Connection

    I used to think I had to talk in order to feel connected. I realized during retreat that I can feel connected just by being near people I care about.

    Silence taught me that words can get in the way. Do something in silence with someone you love. It will be awkward at first but eventually you will see what it means just to be in someone’s presence.

    20. Truth

    I studied philosophy in college and I thought I could read about truth. But retreat taught me that truth is found in silence.

    Silence has taught me a deeper truth than words ever could. Sit in silence once a week and feel the truth in your heart. It’s there whether you can express it in words or not.

  • 5 Surprising Things I Learned During a Year of Silence

    5 Surprising Things I Learned During a Year of Silence

    “Freedom is instantaneous the moment we accept things as they are.” ~Karen Maezen Miller

    Four years ago I spent the better part of a year being silent.

    A friend had told me that in silence, the bits of you that need healing heal themselves. He was talking about the bits of me that had pushed me until I was sick and depressed, too anxious to answer the door.

    I call it my year of silence, but it was more like a year of “doing nothing” because I wasn’t silently reading a book or silently reorganizing my cutlery drawer; I was just sitting. The not doing was the really challenging part.

    Much of what I learned from that year was different to what I’d expected. Five things that surprised me the most were:

    1. A unique meditation

    My brief going in was “The less you do, the better.” Things I’d considered useful and productive—reading, writing, talking, cooking, and even cleaning—were now distractions. “Let your thoughts run,” my friend said. “Notice them if you want to, but leave them to themselves.”

    And so, I just sat.

    After five days I called and said, “I feel like I used to when I meditated.”

    I didn’t get it. Meditation is when you focus on one thing; I was letting my mind leap about. But when you sit without distractions you start to see your thoughts for what they are, just thoughts, and as you do, you reconnect with the you beneath your thoughts.

    It felt like meditation because it was meditation.

    I saw a poster recently that said, “I missed meditation today, which makes seven years in a row.” That’s pretty much how I used to feel too.

    Now I know that every time I just sit, without distraction, even if it’s for half an hour, it’s meditation.

    2. The din of silence

    Being silent sounds peaceful, right?

    It’s not.

    It’s like pulling up a chair with your harshest, most foul-mouthed critic and saying, “Okay, tell me what you really think?”

    And while there were some “I’m connected to all things” times, there were also the “I want to stab myself” times. (I’m only half kidding.)

    Think of your mind as a spoiled child indulged with toys and shiny objects its whole life— books to read, things to watch, goals to work toward, scrabble.

    When you do nothing, there are no toys.

    Here’s a poem I wrote in one of my sneaky, writing moments.

    Having a Knees Up
    The only place my
    head wants to be, is
    under the covers
    close to my knees.

    There is no uplifting message to this point; just wanted to say, it can get gnarly.

    3. A year of minutes

    Your mind is a doing things junkie. It almost doesn’t care what you do.

    It’s like a heroin addict. No heroin? I’ll take crack. Finished the last episode of Walking Dead; I’ll take the video of the cat in a shark suit.

    I began this not doing lark for just one day, but I carried on because, for the first time in a long time, it felt right. My mind, however, thought I was a loser. It said things like:

    “How are you going to get anywhere like this?!”
    “Let’s start a blog and write about this.”
    “Elizabeth Gilbert went to India. You should go to India.”
    “Oh, learn Māori. You’ve always wanted to do that.”

    The urge to do was gargantuan. It was also epic. Mighty. And colossal. Thank you thesaurus, I think we’ve made our point.

    And it was made worse by all the cool ideas I was having. Silence does that. And a few of them were actually cool.

    My mind was relentless.

    Early on I realized the challenge wasn’t doing this for a year, but hanging-in until lunchtime.

    The only way through was minute by minute. Not in thinking how awesomely silent I’d been the day before—nice thought—or thinking about what lay ahead, but by being present in the moment.

    As time went on it got easier. My mind got tired of being ignored and stopped talking so much.

    4. The wrong guy for the job

    There is nothing like watching your mind to really get to know it.

    I hadn’t realized how bossy it was. How much it worried. Or that it’s so terrified of change it’ll do anything to maintain the status quo, even when the status quo is you being too anxious to answer the door, or whatever hole/habit you might be stuck in.

    I began to understand my mind’s basic nature. And how the most important thing to the mind is to be alert for danger.

    I realized that the problem wasn’t my mind—it was me. I’d given it the wrong job. I’d mistakenly put it in charge of my life.

    When my body told me to rest, my mind said, “No, try harder,” so I did.

    When I had an idea to do something, my mind said, “But no one else does it like that.” And so I didn’t either.

    I constantly allowed my mind to overrule deeper wisdom and natural desire. I didn’t allow the rhythm and energy of life to flow through me; I tried to control it.

    Letting your mind rule your life is like asking your inner eight year old to organize the next presidential campaign; she doesn’t know how and spends most of her time trying to look good in front of her friends. 

    5. The holy grail—acceptance

    Silence helps you find balance.

    Silence comes in different shapes. Silence is meditation. Silence is doing nothing. Silence can be standing in line without checking your phone.

    Silence helps you see your mind is just one part of you. Silence helps you hear your wise inner voice.

    But I also learned something far deeper and even more important; the cat inside the shark suit…

    Human beings try hard. At everything. For instance, at one stage I tried so hard at doing nothing that I became phobic. (Yep.) And you might be thinking, if I were silent for a year I could be as calm and relaxed as Lisa is.

    Firstly, ha ha about me feeling calm all the time. Secondly, that’s your mind talking.

    The key to feeling self-assured and peaceful doesn’t come from some arduous journey, like being silent for a year, but in living life day to day.

    People often ask me, but how do I feel calm and “positive” all the time? The answer: you don’t. Stop trying to. And when you do, gradually the moments that feel good start to expand and the ones that don’t start to recede.

    When you have a clear moment, you have a clear moment. But those other non-clear moments, they’re perfectly fine too.

    When you have a positive, life-affirming thought, this is fine, but so are all those cranky not so life-affirming thoughts.

    Practicing acceptance is the master key.

  • Silencing Your Lizard Brain: Stop Feeling Pressured and Inadequate

    Silencing Your Lizard Brain: Stop Feeling Pressured and Inadequate

    Holding Head

    “Serenity comes when you trade expectations for acceptance.” ~Unknown

    Damn lizard brain, I hate you sometimes. Why do you always have this thirst for more? Why must you have such impossibly high expectations for everything?

    It’s good to have standards, but when is it too much?

    Things can be going great for me and I could have the entire world love me, yet it wouldn’t be enough.

    I still wouldn’t be happy even every human on Earth left me a voicemail to tell me I’m wonderful. Instead, I’d be wondering how everyone got my number.

    Why is it never enough? It’s because the moment it slows down, my lizard brain is going to eat at me again. It always wants more.

    My mind needs to be constantly bombarded with success and pleasure.

    It will tell me I’m not good enough; it will tell me how I should probably just give up, because what’s the use if I’m not constantly getting results?  

    Yesterday, I had around ten new people follow me on Twitter, six new people subscribe to my newsletter, and over twenty new comments on an article. Today, I had only four more people follow me, several others unfollow, no new newsletter subscribers, and two new comments.

    Lizard brain, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t beat yesterday’s achievements.

    The problem with this is that I set high expectations in at least 10,000 areas on a daily basis. This is draining because it is unrealistic to be able to hit all those marks and exceed all the time.

    This adds up and really affects my happiness, because there are these expectations I feel I have to meet.

    Over the years, I’ve noticed this about myself and try my best to stop my lizard brain during its peak hours.

    You probably have an annoying lizard brain too. It’s the part of you that controls you, makes you afraid, and pushes you because it says you’re a failure.

    If your lizard brain is bothering you, here are some reminders that might help:

    You can’t always win.

    I have to constantly remind myself it is simply impossible to always beat yesterday’s achievements. Think about it. If you land on the moon today, what are the odds of you going to Mars tomorrow?

    Celebrate your victories from today and don’t worry about the next day. You can worry about going to Mars maybe a month from now. You already made it to the moon, relax.

    Celebrate and truly appreciate your accomplishment.

    Besides, you can’t always win. So even when you fall just remind yourself you’re growing and you’re a work in progress. Use your failure as a motivator or a marker for where you need to be.

    You can’t always win. Accept that.

    Stop comparing.

    “The reason we struggle with insecurity is because we compare our behind-the-scenes with everyone else’s highlight reel.” ~Steve Furtick

    Steve Furtick’s quote is gushing with truth. We often compare ourselves to others’ achievements and then we beat ourselves up.

    Well, chances are we’re all just comparing our weakest moments to everybody else’s strongest. See how ridiculous that is?

    You can’t possibly outshine everyone’s highlight reel. You have your own highlight reels too, but they’re not always playing. Stop comparing yourself to others because that is a sure way to feel dissatisfied.

    What you can do instead is focus on your own highlight reels and then work on your behind-the-scenes by learning from them.

    Eventually, others will be in awe at your highlight reels and they won’t even notice when you’re not at your best. It’s okay to slow down every now and then because not every day has to be breaking new ground.

    Don’t let the journey bring you down or the end of the path won’t be as great as it could have been.

    Remind yourself that no one cares.

    This is a harsh truth, but in reality, no one cares. No one will realize how many times you’ve failed or every time you smile funny. Everyone else is the protagonist in his or her own story and you’re just a side character.

    When you remind yourself that you’re not in the center of the universe and not everything revolves around you, things get easier.

    This may be the hardest part for me. For some reason, I always feel like all eyes are on me and that every micro-movement will be noted by literally everyone in the room and eyes will be rolled as I adjust my leg positions. “Ugh, who does Vincent think he is? Sitting all cool like that…”

    See how ridiculous that is? I highly doubt thirty people are constantly watching me for as little as a leg twitch. Chances are people just don’t care or are too busy with their own problems.

    Keep reminding yourself that others have things going on too. You’re not the protagonist in their book; they are.

    Meditate.

    When I’m meditating, my lizard brain just does what it wants, but I act as the detached observer. I let it talk but I don’t interact. I watch it babble on and on as I crack a smile, because when I meditate, I no longer care.

    Then I take it to the next level by focusing in on my breath. I make sure that the only thing I’m worrying about is breathing. My lizard brain doesn’t have anything on me now because it slowly starts to fade away.

    There are tons of extensive guides on how to meditate. Pick a method that seems interesting to you and try it out. You can be the detached observer or the silencer.

    What do you do to silence your lizard brain?

    Photo by Gibson Regester

  • How Taking Quiet Time for Yourself Helps People Around You

    How Taking Quiet Time for Yourself Helps People Around You

    sitting

    “I wish I could show you, when you are lonely or in darkness, the astonishing light of your own being.” ~Hafiz of of Shiraz

    “What I wouldn’t give for a few moments of silence.”

    “I really should start meditating.”

    “I know it’s important to take breaks, but I just don’t have time.”

    We’ve all heard (or made) comments like these at some point. Implicit in these statements is the idea that resting in stillness is beneficial…for the individual.

    But what if such a practice of peace is more than that? What if it’s beneficial for others in your family, your community, in every life you touch?

    When I worked as a live-in caregiver for adults with intellectual disabilities at L’Arche, I often rose early to help my housemates with their morning routines. (L’Arche is a non-profit that creates homes wherein people with and without intellectual disabilities share life together in community.)

    I came to live there after college, and it was a wonderful challenge for an introvert like me to live and work with fourteen housemates for two years.

    When I wasn’t assigned to help my housemates with their morning routines, however, I had a ritual of my own. I’d pad down the staircase in slippers, my journal in hand. I’d assemble some breakfast, and then sit down in a living room chair that faced the house’s front windows.

    Morning light would warm my skin and my spirit too. I’d sip my coffee and stare silently, content to take it all in.

    My housemates would move through their routines around me; my morning oasis was, after all, right in the midst of a fourteen-person household. I would greet them with a smile, then duck my head and keep silent. (more…)