The Joy of Silence

The art of Shodo (Japanese calligraphy) has been a dramatic vehicle to assist me in living with the joy of Silence. Each stroke of the brush, from the very first strand that touches the rice paper to the very last bristle that leaves the paper, requires complete focus and concentration. The end result sometimes is a quality piece of Shodo. Sometimes not. At all times, I receive the gift of Silence.

Silence has no time aspect attached to it. As such, limitless feelings of awareness can spring forth, like a butterfly leaving the cocoon. I suspect such is happening all of the time, but there is simply too much noise in my world and in my head to hear on a regular basis. Silence is always at one’s beck and call, provided the Listener is willing.

As time moves forward, I become more and more appreciative of Silence.

I am finding slivers of wisdom in between the paper-thin gaps between my thoughts. Peace between reality and dreams. Historically, I viewed Silence as useless emptiness, an opportunity to fill in the blanks. Now I sense the blanks are where insight lives, the home of inspired solutions.

The fine line that separates introspection and perceived fact is where the illusion is lost. In that wedge, I am free — free from my thoughts, history, biases and views. I am free from me. Or perhaps free to be me.

In that nearly imperceivable crack between the art and the artist, I find my piece of Shodo forming. In that tiny divide, I have no self-imposed restraints, no barriers. It is pure independence, if only for that split second. Yet it is that experience of the split second purity that keeps me returning to my art. . . the desire to feel that joy. An authentic piece of heaven.

In the muteness between thoughts, Silence is as deep as the oceans while noise rests on the surface, like a leaf aimlessly drifting on the lake.

Silence. Has there ever been such a concept filled with more potential?