Singing or Silence: No, the Middle Ground is Not for Me

“When you name me, you negate me. By giving me a name, a label, you take away all the other things I could be.” — Soren Kierkegaard

Buddhist teacher Heinrich Zimmerman once said that the best things in life, words can never express. The second best things are but metaphors alluding to that inexpressible transcendent (think: moving art, poetry, music, etc.). Then you have the third best:

The conversations we share with each other.

Language is a double-edged sword. It can certainly be a powerful tool to spark that sense of the transcendent, a seed which can flower into a recognition of greater truth and awareness. Language has the ability to connect us: to each other and to the nature within us, the nature that we come from, are a part and parcel of, and that which we are continually re-creating. Our words, through the stories which we tell each other, can be very powerful, indeed.

But, what about all that language we share with each other which could hardly be described as inspirational in the above sense? We all remember that rhyme from our childhood: “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.” Well, how true is that? I think we can all agree that often, words stemming from malicious intent — either consciously or subconsciously — certainly can have a harmful effect. But, what about those words stemming from our everyday ‘innocuous’ conversations? How harmless are these conversations, really?

So when we pull back the superficial layers of our language, what’s underneath? Could our words be cloaking a larger insecurity? Maybe a fear of not feeling valued or possibly a need for affirmation? Maybe we have a discomfort with silence, and if that’s so, where does the root lie?

Returning to the Kierkegaard quote above, to what extent are we ‘negating’ ourselves with the stories of who we are and what we like? Through labeling ourselves, Kierkegaard suggests, we create an illusory story of a separately existing self; and the more we tell this story, the more we believe it and the more attached to it we become. We like to think we know who ‘we’ are, but the question must be asked: is this story that we have created an expression of our authentic self or that of a conditioned one? And, if the latter is the case, could these ‘innocuous’ conversations actually have the unintended consequences of feeding this conditioned self while further entrenching all those aforementioned insecurities? Could how we use our language actually be suffocating our own evolutionary potential?

________

The following is a poem about the power of words as well as their futility and hindrance. It’s about rethinking the role that our language has in our ultimate well-being and our ability to experience those moments of blissful transcendence. It came to me with the far-off hope that these words might serve as a catalyst to the latter.

_________

Singing or Silence:
only these far off polls call to me.

The burning embers
of uninhibited laughter,
sweat-drenched dancing
and childlike play;
or the timeless wisdom
of the whispers of the wind
and that transcendent mystery
of the fickle cloud formations
and sun’s gracious rays.

No, the middle ground is not for me.

It diverts the gaze
from this magical world
of serendipitous awe and tranquility,
this blossoming beauty
passing us by
as if we’re in a soporific daze

glued to our thoughts we remain, blindfolded by a desert of distant distraction,
a tangential world always in waiting yet never quite arriving
an infraction
steeped in a longing
heart’s contraction

If, however, we only possess
that fundamental sense
to close our mouth
and let our mind fall into cessation,
we could then light
that dormant songbird
within each one of us
into a cascade
of fiery jubilation.

__________

If I could allow myself the bold presumption to offer advice to my younger me — or any younger me for that matter — it would be this:
Mind the silence.
Meet it.
Respect it.
Recognize her as teacher and Be the observer.
Of your own fleeting thoughts.
Of the feelings underneath the words and actions of you and those around you.
Of the ever-present veil behind all action, that maestro orchestrating the Grand Symphony.
Our words, after all, posses great power: use them sparingly, deliberately and consciously.
We are always painting a story whether or not we realize it.
Abracadabra: our Words take life, seeds sprouting actions, creating habits, building characters and destiny.
This is our collective novel, this moment an indispensable chapter in the intricately weaved together Book of Life.
And right now you are presented with a choice: what story do you wish to create?
Which story do you wish to inspire, to exemplify, to be?
Yes, it is true, this moment IS absolutely holy: so let it grip you, nourish you, encapsulate and engulf you.
Surrender and let it take you on that wild ride only the deepest depth of your imagination can fathom.
Remember, you’re here now — right where you need to be — so sink into it and don’t look back.