Experiments In Silence

  This afternoon I started reading Maggie Ross's 'Silence: A User's Guide - Volume One.' As I prepared for this period of study leave, this was the first book I bought. I've been wanting to read it for some time. I have managed to read the introduction and chapter one. It's not an easy read and definitely a work of philosophical theology. I should have realised this when Rowan Williams writes the forward and Maggie Ross counts him as a personal friend and the custodian of her vows as an Anglican Solitary. All of that said, I persevered, but it took some time to settle into her use of language and wide-ranging references. At the heart of those opening pages were some striking ideas:  She doesn't refer to the practice of silence or the experience of it as that signifies something that one can dip into on the surface. She writes about 'the work of silence' implying that it takes some effort and perseverance to experience; but also that there is a purpos

 I have now entered an extended period of silence and solitude. During this set-aside time, I am reading, writing and undertaking praxis. Praxis, is a cycle of enacting, reflecting on, and refining practice. In these first few weeks of study leave my practice of silence has largely been centred around an extended period of time as part of the Morning Office; or seeking retreat in the study; and of reading and writing. This extended period of solitude and silence is about continuing some of that, but it will also involve taking stock; of refining practice; of seeking to widen my experience of and entry into silence. It seems that there is much discussion in what I have read thus far about the interplay between inner silence (stilling my inner world and techniques to aid that), outer silence (the noise of 21st cetury living), and solitude (aloneness as opposed to loneliness). I am not sure that I am clear on really what it is I am looking for myself of all of those three - I suspect that

 I had a really interesting discussion on Twitter the other day about the relationship between silence and solitude. Can you have one without the other? In her excellent books, 'The Book of Silence' and 'How to be Alone', Sara Maitland teases out the relationship between these two spiritual disciplines. Is silence an abscence of speech and other noise that I make? Is silence an attitude of mind that I can seek to live? Is true silence something we can only experience in solitude? Is solitude that can be practiced in some way in contemporary life? Musing on these questions made me wonder what it actually was that I was seeking to practice - was it silence or was it solitude, or in some way, both? What did the silence I am seeking to practice look, feel, and sound like? Reading Erling Kagge's 'Silence: In An Age of Noise', he quotes a section of a poem by Rolf Jacobsen called 'The Silence Afterwards.' Whilst Jacobsen doesn't answer my musings, he d

Last week was full and full-on. I have wanted to train as a Mental Health First Aider for some time, so my study leave seemed like a good time to do it. Last week I did the youth training and this week I am doing the adult training. I know the week would be intense and intensive. It touched on difficult subjects and ones that have impacted my own life and that of my family. I knew the course was going to involve long days of learning, but what I hadn't prepared myself for was the emotional cost of the subject matter. That isn't the point of this post. I mused on Twitter earlier what had begun to form as a question - how do I hold this new routine of practicing silence back in the midst of normal life? I managed to maintain Morning Prayer each day with an extended period of silence in the early part of the liturgy. In many ways, as I look back at the week, that silence sustained me. It was also interesting that a number of people on the course with me were intrigued to discover

 This morning, instead of joining another parish's online worship, I decided instead to continue to use the same simple Benedictine liturgy that I've been using all week. I settled into my prayer space; composed myself; and readied myself to pray. I had already decided to do as I did yesterday - to pray the opening prayer and to then settle into an extended period of silence. The opening prayer did its work, Grant, O Lord, may turn one soul from thee; and, ever daring, yet one more grace would I implore, that many souls this day, because of me, may love thee more. Amen.   I sat, palms up, eyes closed. Like yesterday, I found some time in, that my mind was crowded with thoughts and concerns, but like yesterday, I managed to bat them away. I tried to bring myself some focus by saying the words of the Jesus Prayer. Then came the same ringing/whistling in my ears that seemed to act as an announcement yesterday. I eagerly awaited the sheer silence... And then my phone buzzed. And I

I have been grumbled at. Someone complained that I shouldn't be posting this blog on social media because I am 'on retreat' and therefore I shouldn't be posting anywhere. I am exploring silence, therefore I should be silent and certainly not 'bragging' about the time I have on Facebook. This grumble bothered me for a while. I want to write about my experiences and discoveries so that I have a log of this pilgrimage; but I also wanted to blog so that it might be an encouragement to others to experiment with silence as a spiritual discipline. My 12 weeks away from parish ministry are not a retreat. That's language I have never used and my diocese doesn't use it. In fact, the diocese much prefers to use the language of study rather than sabbath. Yes, of course, there is intentionally time for spiritual renewal and for rest in this time, but for my own part, this time is both a pilgrimage of self-discovery as I experiment with silence as a spiritual discipli