Fasting from words, fasting from a volume of speech, being willing to humbly accept the yoke of silence and quietude deprives the tongue of the mastery of our hearts and minds. The tongue is a very useful tool for the art of love and for the art of prayer, but it is also the means by which we afflict others and even our own selves so often. So it must be called into holy obedience.
In silence the scattered pieces of my life fall into place, and I see again where I am going.
The Word must be heard in the silence of the heart, the place in which it can be welcomed and given space so that it may become creative. From earliest times the advice given to those who wanted to learn the monastic way was always "to return to your own heart." This is the interior space for which there are so many different concepts: the inner cloister, the poustinia, the cave of the heart. It is simply "the place of God in us" which each of us will understand in a unique and mysterious way.
Real revelation comes through silence.
Take great care to restrain your tongue and be circumspect. Let only discretion and charity open your mouth. And practice the advice of all the Saints to break silence only with words that are worth more than silence. Silence is one of the most certain signs that God dwells in a soul.
In the midst of the tintinnabulation and hurly-burly I see a silence overflowing with absence of all but Thee and me. I seek an interior place of listening to the divine where even the unspoken, but thought, words of prayer shatter silence.
Be still. In the silence become empty,
let us create space for Holy Wisdom
to enter in and through us,
expanding our horizons.
Here we will be peaceful, calm, in harmony
with the universe,
in unity with all beings.
All that which maintains a perfect balance in life must have a center. The scales of life never balance by but one side. As you become interested in the secrets of lie, you will find life holds no secrets. Silence, silence, and in the silence of the soul, desire to become conscious of the oneness of being. Then further desire to become in greater consciousness, the fullness of being.
Outside my window the storm has passed. There was silence. Silence as thick as the blanket of snow that fell during that night. I sat up on my bed and entered the stillness. I had no more questions. I had no answers either. But I was filled with grace. With an inward silence, blessed by my angel after wrestling in the dark. The faith of this family, resonating with the steps in the stairwell, had quieted my fear and taken me by the hand.
Meditating in silence is a little like donning black robes. You turn off your internal music and distracting narrative, and stop worrying about whether you fit in. You realize that stillness can offer another way of learning and communication. Rather than marching to a different drummer, you walk along quietly at your own pace, not leading, not following, just trying to experience the entire parade.