I sat down on my soft chair to meditate this afternoon, the subject was silence, a precious thing in our world. My peaceful hour is usually about 30 to 45 minutes, rarely an hour, my mind starts racing at some point, and I have a lot of work to do.

But the silence has become very important to me.

“In a world of noise, confusion and conflict, “wrote Thomas Merton, “it is necessary that there be places of silence, inner discipline and peace. In such places love can blossom.”

And I find hope and promise, not fear or anger. Silence is a medicine for me, a magic pill, a potion from the angels. The only messages I hear are  full of light and meaning.

I’ve gotten use to what is for me an extraordinary thing. At some point in my meditation I close my eyes and let my poor mind run all over the place, like a dog in a play group.

At some point, I focus on my breathing, and come back down into the stillness, which is a beautiful space for me. There are things I can see in silence that I can’t see any other way or another time.

In the silence, I am  transformed to a peaceful, even mystical place.

At some point, there is a slight pressure on the chair, and a warm presence on my chest or stomach, and then, a soft and squish face on my should and in my own face.

Bud has come to share the silence with me, as he does almost every day. He causes no trouble other than his loud snoring, and I find his presence comfortable and life affirming. I feel like he wants to be a part of it, through all of his burping and farting and snoring.

Bud loves the silence, but he is not usually silent for long.

He likes to rest his head on my shoulder, and close his eyes. Every now and then, he opens his eyes, sometimes he jumps up frightened, having a bad dream or memory. I stroke his head and his shoulders, and this calms him almost instantly. Then he settles.

I like to think Bud wants to share the silence with me, But he might just want to be warm, to hear a beating heart. We are connected at those moments, though, dogs share the passages of life, they love the spirits inside of us.

The world of men has forgotten the joys of silence, writes Merton, and the peace of solitude, which is essential, he wrote, for the fullness of human living. Man cannot be happy for long unless he is in contact with the springs of spiritual life, which are hidden in the depths of his own soul.  If man is exiled constantly from his own home, he wrote,  locked out of his spiritual solitude, he ceases to be a true person.

I know this to be so. I ceased to be a true person for a very long time, I am walking back, step by step.

Audio: Extraordinary Silence