⟡ Silence is magic ⟡

How less nourishes more

Warm greetings on this solstice day. ◡̈ ☼ ⊹ ✷

I’d like to embrace and celebrate the darkest day of the year by lighting a candle and sending you a dispatch about silence, and how I’ve been making space for silence as an intentional tool for my creative practice and general wellbeing.

Having a positive working relationship with the senses is important. We are undoubtedly influenced by the quality and quantity of what we take in through our senses. Think about your surroundings in different scenarios. How do they affect your state of being? How do they affect your connection with inspiration?

When I am overstimulated, my capacity to operate from (and thus, create from) a place of authenticity is hugely jeopardized, if not impossible. In this case, the channel through which energy, life force, and creativity travels really doesn’t have a clear path.

I know that I am most in touch with myself and with creativity when I am looking within. Inward, grounded attention really helps to keep my creative practice feeling true. Re-directing the attention to move inward instead of always grasping outward isn’t necessarily something that happens automatically - we are programmed the way we are programmed. A lot of the work is in setting the right conditions for the senses to feel safe to retreat. Maybe we can re-program ourselves for ~sensory retreat~ to arise more naturally and comfortably with practice.

Helpful idea for re-programming: intentionally schedule periods of silence for yourself.

Things I have observed (and you can too):

1. The best, brightest and most authentic forms of inspiration usually come when my mind is clear and open.

2. In order for my mind to be clear and open, there needs to be space.

3. There is no space when I am constantly digesting sensory stimuli.

4. Therefore, there must be breaks from the digestion of sensory stimuli.

5. Breaks = cultivating intentional times of sensory silence.

6. (There is an emphasis on ‘intentional’. It’s human nature to want to take in sights and sounds. It might take some willpower to turn that around).

7. Silence can be work, but the work is worth it.

8. I always, one-hundred percent of the time, feel more present and content after periods of silence.

Silence allows me to be available to the communication from inspiration. Nearly all of my ideas for my paintings happen with my eyes closed. Silence can be meditation, it can be laying down in a dark room. It can be closing the eyes or ears any time of day.

Silence as distance, not absence:

Silence is usually defined as the complete absence of sound. The expectation to encounter such conditions - such as a physical space that is 100% quiet - might be actually impossible.

Since absence is unrealistic and maybe even unideal, thinking of silence instead in terms of distance helps. I can’t / don’t need to be in an environment with absolutely NO activity, but I can choose one with less activity, sometimes. This is distance. When needed, I can distance myself from loudness. I can distance myself from visual noise. I can distance myself from social energy. I can distance myself from any kind of sensory chaos.

Can we also cultivate silence in ourselves even in (internal or external) environments of chaos that we can’t physically escape? This is more difficult, but I think it’s possible.

All I know is silence comes in many forms, and can also be hard to come by naturally. That is why I think it is a healing balm, a tool we can use with intention when we need it. It is often what I need.

Silent hour.

Story time: I share a building with some other artists and have a few employees. This year, my friends Avery and Stephen and I renovated one of the open artist studios to be a bright, clean, flexible project space. It doesn’t get used much during the average day, and since I had been benefitting from silent practices on my own, I was inspired to host a ‘silent hour’ every Wednesday from noon to one, open to anyone in the building. No phones. No sounds. Just silence. Some sit, some lay, some meditate, some sketch. I ring a singing bowl at the beginning, halfway point, and end point. There is something SO magical about how NOT normal this is, to sit with a group of friends and coworkers in silence at mid-day mid-week. Each and every time we end a session I leave feeling like my mind took a breath of fresh air. I always sketch right at the end of the session, and my hand is so steady and calm, because my mind and energetic state are so steady and calm. The group effort and accountability is pure alchemy as well.

It’s normal to have a hard time justifying making time for silence. You are not alone if your thoughts try to sabotage your efforts. If it’s hard, try it with a friend or a group instead. For some reason it’s harder to bail when you’re in a setting with others. ;-)

Rest is part of the practice.

Speaking of thoughts, it’s all too easy to prioritize productivity over rest and silence. Thoughts can be patterns and patterns can be strong. But what about redefining productivity? Remember that resting is just as important as the doing. They need each other. So in that sense, rest is productive. You are doing your creative practice a service by giving it a space for it to arise again from. Less nourishes more.

Affirmation:

When I create space for silence, silence creates space for me. I allow myself silence when I need it, and trust it will result in abundant creative energy.

A note of gratitude - These ideas are made so much clearer for me to put words to because of the teachings from others and their encouragement / safe environments for meditative practice. I love being on a path of endless, layered, learning. ♡

P.S. For those who are wondering about the December experiment post, this one will come next week! This particular one I thought was timed really well for the New Year, because it is about rhythm and timing. See ya there if you’re signed up!

Have a wonderful solstice. Today we have a short, but delightfully sunny, day in Michigan.

♡ keep practicing (but also rest) ♡

-Kristen