Mama exhorted her children at every opportunity to "Jump at de sun." We might not land on the sun, but at least we would get off the ground.
There is the silence in which everything exists, and then there is the noise in my head that I have come to take as the natural background to my life. It has occurred to me that perhaps the trick is to begin to see the silence as the background and the noise as moving across it. The silence, the plain existence of things, is what is real; the thoughts are clouds.