Turn the Speakers Up, then Off

A few Lents ago, I was with a group of women discussing what we were giving up for Lent. One said she was giving up listening to music in the car. Her daily commute would be total silence or time for prayer. I was currently reading Cardinal Sarah’s book The Power of Silence. I knew the benefit of quiet time. I wanted to create more silence in my life. And, despite the short commute to work, I also knew that I couldn’t make such a Lenten commitment.

The sticky black cloud was clinging at the time. Silence felt dangerous. Without exterior distraction, my interior thoughts ran wild. Fifteen minutes in the car with no audio distraction? Couldn’t do it. I needed noise, however mindless, to get the thoughts at bay and keep me at ease. I was very aware that the background noise—music, podcasts, news radio, whatever—was a coping mechanism. Not the most unhealthy in the scheme of coping mechanisms, but not actually solving my problems. That took actual work. The noise just made commutes bearable in the meantime.

Society loves noise. Distraction of any kind is available in seconds. Constantly updated content to consume. Hours upon hours of YouTube vlogs or podcasts or reality shows. We can fill our hours with others’ opinions.

Communication is good. Sharing and listening to other’s content is good (depending on the content). But we need time to be alone. And we need time to be silent. Over the past year, lots of us have spent more time alone. But how much of it was real solitude? How much of it was in silence?

Cardinal Sarah says, “Sounds and emotions detach us from ourselves, whereas silence always forces man to reflect upon his own life.” In the silence, we can truly assess how we are doing, what we think, what we feel. We can process. We can reflect. We can feel the small nudge of our conscience. We can hear God.

Society doesn’t like pain. Individually, collectively, we want to dull pain as much as possible. We want the distraction. The coping mechanism is a lot easier than the sharp reality of dealing with the pain. Life is hard, and we all have our thoughts or traumas or issues that hurt. And sometimes, to get through the day, you need to comfort with noise and distraction. But it is a temporary fix. The pain is there, inside, waiting for a gap of silence. Eventually you need to turn the TV, take out the ear buds, and be still.

Stillness and quiet are radical in a world of consumption and noise. And what you find the quiet will radically transform you.