I went parasailing years ago. The boat captain said everyone always comments on the absolute silence you experience while gliding along up there. He was right. It was special. Silence is akin to negative space in the hands of a skilled artist. Everyone is always trying to cram in as much as possible in a short weekend or vacay. But the best experiences are sometimes just peace and quiet. The things you don’t get are sometimes the best gifts.
As someone with three Champagne fridges, the sudden absence of the compressor hum is a variety of silence I notice immediately…and never peacefully. It’s funny how the same lack of sound can register as relief in one room and alarm in another.
On July 13 I had surgery to receive my second cochlear implant. The first ramification of the surgery is they have to destroy what hearing you have to put in the implant. The second ramification was I had to wait a month to activate the new implant, which meant I had no hearing on my right side. The night after the surgery, I was not prepared for the moment when I disconnected my working implant to go to bed because I realized in that moment that I am completely deaf unless without the technology. I felt lost in a universe of silence I had never experienced. What my brain chose to "hear" was David Bowie singing, "Ground control to Major Tom . . ."
The next morning, I wrote this poem:
inner space
never have
I heard what
emptiness
sounds like
until tonight
nothing is
a vastness
and I float
weightless
soundless
in a galaxy
of absence
There is more to explore in silence than I ever imagined.
Milton thank you for sharing your experience. Wow, I didn't know those hurdles existed with getting cochlear implants. I absolutely love your poem - the emptiness and vastness - it's beautiful.
When my Granddad died many years ago, he was waked (laid out) in his home for a few days before his funeral, this allowed people to come and pay their respects - this is a tradition in Ireland. On the last evening, I remember the house was packed with family, neighbours and friends all talking and reminiscing and laughing at old stories. There were multiple conversations talking place at the same time and it was loud. The priest arrived and after a cup of tea he asked anyone who was not family to kindly step outside the house. Only the children and grandchildren remained. The priest said a prayer and then asked for a period of silence - a time to say our private goodbye's to Granddad before we moved him to the church. I'll never forget that moment of silence. It felt charged with love, sorrow, gratitude, the remembrance of a life, the end of an era - and we all experienced it together, it was really powerful. That moment of silence was more meaningful than any speech or funeral service - it was a fitting tribute to person we all loved.
Once at an exhibit of Michael Kenna’s photography, another photographer commented that Michael photographs the spaces — fence posts in the snow. So beautiful. So calming.
I’m a preschool teacher and I’m particularly attuned to the absence of sound when ten toddlers finally fall captive to quiet slumber after crying, crawling, singing, rustling, wiggling, arguing, slurping, talking… Maybe because each time it feels like this might be the day the silence isn’t going to happen… but most often it does.
My dog does not bark or make any other sound to indicate that she wants to go in or out. She simply stands at the door until we notice her. She has trained us to pay attention to her silence. She also stands silently next to the door of the cabinet that holds her cookies. It has turned out to be a very effective means of communication!
I do listen most of the time - sounds in the morning are so different than evening sounds. I believe color has sounds, so when I am a car passenger, I look at the many many colors of nature around me and think about how I would mix those colors or the opposite or tertiary for a painting. Blue green of spruce is different from the green of pine or maple, etc. each color has a pitch (I’m a painter and musician). I believe planets and stars make an amazing sound of perfect harmony. Actual humming produces nitric oxide which makes our bodies happy. Thanks for sharing your thoughts; I will listen more closely!
There's a silence that's venerated by artists - the one between notes, or between lines. My late (bless her heart) vocal teacher once described it as a pure moment of appreciation of what came just before, and an anticipation of what is to come. I find this a beautiful place to be in.
In the great book 'Scenes of Attention', there is a chapter by Jonardon Ganeri that focuses on a notion from the Bengali philosopher Bhattacharyya: negative attention. Ganeri describes it as "attention to wants, lacks, losses, and lacunae – to the missing and misplaced” (pp. 142 - 143). This idea was striking to me as a teacher educator, because I realize how much of our focus on developing attention in pre-service teachers is on noticing what IS THERE, but rarely do we ask them to focus on what IS NOT THERE. This post suggests something similar about silence, which is the absence of sound. What is it that we gain from paying attention to what is not there, or practicing negative attention?
I went parasailing years ago. The boat captain said everyone always comments on the absolute silence you experience while gliding along up there. He was right. It was special. Silence is akin to negative space in the hands of a skilled artist. Everyone is always trying to cram in as much as possible in a short weekend or vacay. But the best experiences are sometimes just peace and quiet. The things you don’t get are sometimes the best gifts.
The sound of silence after turning off a long running fan
This is a great summer answer. Sometimes I don't know I'm affected by that sound until I shut it off and the silence is so much more silent
The night my wife was passing. Her breathing was quiet for the first time in many months… the quiet woke me up…
I’m so sorry for your loss. I hope she visits you in your dreams and shows you signs throughout your day.
That's intense; I am so sorry for your loss, but thank you for sharing such a powerful example.
As someone with three Champagne fridges, the sudden absence of the compressor hum is a variety of silence I notice immediately…and never peacefully. It’s funny how the same lack of sound can register as relief in one room and alarm in another.
On July 13 I had surgery to receive my second cochlear implant. The first ramification of the surgery is they have to destroy what hearing you have to put in the implant. The second ramification was I had to wait a month to activate the new implant, which meant I had no hearing on my right side. The night after the surgery, I was not prepared for the moment when I disconnected my working implant to go to bed because I realized in that moment that I am completely deaf unless without the technology. I felt lost in a universe of silence I had never experienced. What my brain chose to "hear" was David Bowie singing, "Ground control to Major Tom . . ."
The next morning, I wrote this poem:
inner space
never have
I heard what
emptiness
sounds like
until tonight
nothing is
a vastness
and I float
weightless
soundless
in a galaxy
of absence
There is more to explore in silence than I ever imagined.
That's amazing, Milton. I hope the surgery succeeded! Thanks so much for sharing ,,,
Milton thank you for sharing your experience. Wow, I didn't know those hurdles existed with getting cochlear implants. I absolutely love your poem - the emptiness and vastness - it's beautiful.
When my Granddad died many years ago, he was waked (laid out) in his home for a few days before his funeral, this allowed people to come and pay their respects - this is a tradition in Ireland. On the last evening, I remember the house was packed with family, neighbours and friends all talking and reminiscing and laughing at old stories. There were multiple conversations talking place at the same time and it was loud. The priest arrived and after a cup of tea he asked anyone who was not family to kindly step outside the house. Only the children and grandchildren remained. The priest said a prayer and then asked for a period of silence - a time to say our private goodbye's to Granddad before we moved him to the church. I'll never forget that moment of silence. It felt charged with love, sorrow, gratitude, the remembrance of a life, the end of an era - and we all experienced it together, it was really powerful. That moment of silence was more meaningful than any speech or funeral service - it was a fitting tribute to person we all loved.
This is an amazing example, Lorraine. Thank you so much ...
Aw thank you Rob. It was lovely to share it.
We lost electrical power 4 times for extended times this Summer and I noticed the new silence...it was different but quite enjoyable.
Once at an exhibit of Michael Kenna’s photography, another photographer commented that Michael photographs the spaces — fence posts in the snow. So beautiful. So calming.
Thank You for this info, sometimes its the things we fail to notice that make all the difference.
The first time the sound of silence assaulted me was in the Gobi desert when I wandered away from my group and was ‘lost.’
The second time it embraced me in Antarctica on Christmas Eve, under a starlit sky with icebergs floating silently by.
Nora Curran
I’m a preschool teacher and I’m particularly attuned to the absence of sound when ten toddlers finally fall captive to quiet slumber after crying, crawling, singing, rustling, wiggling, arguing, slurping, talking… Maybe because each time it feels like this might be the day the silence isn’t going to happen… but most often it does.
Love this!
My dog does not bark or make any other sound to indicate that she wants to go in or out. She simply stands at the door until we notice her. She has trained us to pay attention to her silence. She also stands silently next to the door of the cabinet that holds her cookies. It has turned out to be a very effective means of communication!
This is so charming!
I do listen most of the time - sounds in the morning are so different than evening sounds. I believe color has sounds, so when I am a car passenger, I look at the many many colors of nature around me and think about how I would mix those colors or the opposite or tertiary for a painting. Blue green of spruce is different from the green of pine or maple, etc. each color has a pitch (I’m a painter and musician). I believe planets and stars make an amazing sound of perfect harmony. Actual humming produces nitric oxide which makes our bodies happy. Thanks for sharing your thoughts; I will listen more closely!
the silence of making mistakes or messing up, with no mom around to scold me anymore.
Poignant ...
There's a silence that's venerated by artists - the one between notes, or between lines. My late (bless her heart) vocal teacher once described it as a pure moment of appreciation of what came just before, and an anticipation of what is to come. I find this a beautiful place to be in.
That's really nice. Thank you
The silence of your neighborhood when the moon eclipses the sun. My neighborhood went quiet.
In the great book 'Scenes of Attention', there is a chapter by Jonardon Ganeri that focuses on a notion from the Bengali philosopher Bhattacharyya: negative attention. Ganeri describes it as "attention to wants, lacks, losses, and lacunae – to the missing and misplaced” (pp. 142 - 143). This idea was striking to me as a teacher educator, because I realize how much of our focus on developing attention in pre-service teachers is on noticing what IS THERE, but rarely do we ask them to focus on what IS NOT THERE. This post suggests something similar about silence, which is the absence of sound. What is it that we gain from paying attention to what is not there, or practicing negative attention?
This is fantastic, I love it!