Tag: silence

The Significance of Silence

In the settling silence

Even the swaying of a stalk of grass

Seems to have such significance.

A recent walk up Brown Clee Hill, the highest point in Shropshire, took me to this view, and a silence so complete that the buzzing of insects was the only background sound.

In that settling silence, even the swaying of these stalks of grass seemed to have such significance.

Looking east from Brown Clee Hill, Shropshire, July 2022

Tell Me You Love Me

There is a beautiful poem by Mary Oliver where she focuses on her dog, and his simple intuitive longing to know affection:

“he turns upside down, his four paws in the air…

Tell me you love me, he says.

Tell me again…

Over and over he gets to ask it.

I get to tell.”

from ‘Little Dog’s Rhapsody in the Night (Percy 3)’

Today we are so aware of the need for love – for refugees, for the dispossessed, for the homeless. We are so aware of the need for the power of love to displace the force of evil and hate.

A few months ago I was walking along the ridge of a Shropshire hill, called Stiperstones. The ridge is punctuated by exposed concentrations of bare rock, and the strange atmosphere these create have led to stories of the connection of evil with the place (the largest mound is called “Devil’s Chair”).

But as I walked with the sun setting in the west, I could only think of being blessed by being in this remote, wild place. I was like Mary Oliver’s dog, and it felt like the world was saying “I love you” back to me. Of course there was no audible voice and my mind was responding to ideas I had been exploring. And yet love is a perennial and powerful voice. Perhaps the most powerful voice in the universe?

~

Here

In the silence

~

Of Stiperstones

The sun sets

~

And we forget

The day’s pains

~

There was a wind

That blew

~

On the summit

And swept me through

~

A voice that called

Again and again

~

“I love you”

I heard it

~

In the silence

“I love you”

~

“I love you” again

And again and again.

~

In the silence of Stiperstones, November 2021

In the Silence

When you climb a hill, you sometimes experience a special kind of silence.

‘The Lawley’ is one of the Shropshire Hills – seen on the top right-hand side of the photograph taken from The Long Mynd, also featuring ‘The Wrekin’ top centre left.

As you get higher in your climb, the views become more and more stunning, and the silence deeper and deeper.

It can feel like “a new kind of silence”.

This poem was my attempt to that experience one day:

~

There’s a new kind of silence

On the Lawley this morning

~

A kind of inner silence

On the Lawley this morning

~

As if a new kind

Of consciousness

~

Was slowly

Dawning

~

That has suffered

And died

~

And has risen

Again

~

Here on the Lawley

This morning.

Meditate on Things…

“Sure Man was born to meditate on things,

And to contemplate the eternal springs

Of God and Nature…”

Thomas Traherne, “Dumbness”

Colemere is small, tranquil lake in North Shropshire, which I have posted about before, and this beautiful mute swan lingered near the banks on a recent visit.

Reflection seems to be as natural for us as humans as it is to the surface of water, and it is something that is distinctively human.

Colemere

I saw beauty in these simple, but complex, reflections of light and dark on the surface of the water, just as I did in the simple white beauty of the swan.

And I agreed with Thomas Traherne: “Sure Man was born to meditate on things“.

His lines are from a beautiful, thoughtful poem called “Dumbness” (in the sense of not being able to speak), and you can read the full poem here.

When the world speaks to us in such beautiful, reflective ways, it is good, very good.

I hope these reflections, and Traherne’s poetry, have spoken to you.

Silence and Reflection with Thomas Traherne

“Sure Man was born to meditate on things,  
And to contemplate the eternal springs  
Of God and Nature, glory, bliss, and pleasure;  
That life and love might be his Heavenly treasure;  
And therefore speechless made at first, that He
Might in himself profoundly busied be:”

Reflection is as natural to being human as it is to the surface of water. The image above is of Colemere, a tranquil “mere” (small lake) in North Shropshire, dating back to the Ice Age. As Thomas Traherne says: “Sure Man was born to meditate on things“.

He continues:

This, my dear friends, this was my blessed case;  
For nothing spoke to me but the fair face  
Of Heaven and Earth, before myself could speak...


Then did I dwell within a world of light,  
Distinct and separate from all men’s sight,  
Where I did feel strange thoughts, and such things see  
That were, or seemed, only revealed to me...


“D’ye ask me what? It was with clearer eyes  
To see all creatures full of Deities;
Especially one’s self: And to admire  
The satisfaction of all true desire:  
Twas to be pleased with all that God hath done;  
Twas to enjoy even all beneath the sun:  
Twas with a steady and immediate sense
To feel and measure all the excellence  
Of things... every stone, and every star a tongue,  
And every gale of wind a curious song..."

These lines are from his beautiful poem called “Dumbness” (in the sense of not being able to speak), and you can read the full poem here.

Ironically, Traherne is anything but “dumb” when he writes about his pre-language childhood world. It seems a heavenly state, where the whole world “spoke to me”.

When the world speaks to us in such beautiful ways, it is good, very good.

These reflections on Colemere did just that.

I hope that they, and Traherne’s poetry, speak to you.

Colemere, Shropshire (UK), March 2021

Opportunity Incarnated

Pilgrims

From many lands

.

They came

To a place of silence

.

Where symbols

Spoke in stone

.

And sunlight

Coloured the windows

.

With grace

And the space

.

Created

By their pilgrimage

.

Was an opportunity

For heaven

.

To be incarnated

In a human heart.

.

Inspired by Shrewsbury Abbey

Balance your being

How do you balance daily tasks, the demands of other people, work, leisure, and looking after yourself?  This post draws on ancient wisdom to explore a way of answering this tricky question: how do you balance your being for a Lif4Gd?

“Mindfulness” is a popular word today but its roots go back hundreds and thousands of years. I am reminded of this whenever I go past Shrewsbury Abbey, local to me, founded nearly a thousand years ago.  There is a beautiful window portraying St. Benedict over the entrance, and Benedictine monks knew a lot about mindfulness.

The St. Benedict window, Shrewsbury Abbey, courtesy of Frankie Hartland

Maintain

Equilibrium

.

As you balance

Your being

.

Though juggling

Balls of fire

.

Grateful

For those moments

.

Of tranquil

Transition

.

Gliding through

Blue skies of peace.

For me, life sometimes feels like “juggling balls of fire”; Lif4Gd requires though “blue skies of peace”. But how do we find them?

Benedictine monks balanced manual labour with times of meditation and prayer.  There were set times of “doing” and “being”.  There was a regular rhythm to each day, a deliberate intent to maintain equilibrium.  And of course they understood their life from a cosmic perspective.

I start every day with a time of silence.  It helps put life in perspective.  It creates a space for reading, thinking, prayer. 

How do you maintain equilibrium and balance in your life?

Some Questions to Ponder

  1. Have you consciously created balance and equilibrium in your life somehow?  What did you do?  What could you do?
  2. When you focus on “being” and not just “doing”, how do you understand that “being”?  What framework do you use to think about life?

Do leave a comment if this post has made you think. Lif4Gd was set up to be interactive, and enjoy hearing readers’ thoughts.

Best wishes,

Michael