Lately, I have been starting my days by candlelight. I wake up in the predawn hour, pad softly out to the kitchen (only the cat is awake, he opens one eye to greet me, then gently closes it again) and put the kettle on. The neighbourhood is quiet at this time, the only sound the wind in the trees.
I grab my favourite mug as I wait for the water to boil—the old handmade ceramic one with the broken handle (messily glued back together again)—and place my Yorkshire Tea & Biscuits teabag into it (after many years and more money than I care to think about trying every tea under the sun, I have found my forever tea). I wait quietly.
This is my favourite time of day.
When my tea is ready, I take it to my little room at the back of the house, where I like to write, nap, read, think and meditate. I turn on the heater, light the candles, take out my notebook and pen, and settle into the silence.
I sip my tea, allowing myself to drop into an inner state of being. Then I pick up my pen and write. I write until I have said all that needs to be said in that moment. Then, even though I am the only one in the room, I gently tap my meditation bowl, signalling the end of one ritual and the beginning of another. I make myself comfortable, close my eyes and go within.
I have never feared silence. Even as a small child, I knew that if I got quiet enough, I could hear the messages meant for me. Silence enables me to consult with wisdom. Sometimes, silence answers a question I didn’t know I needed to ask.
To befriend silence, you must learn to befriend yourself (perhaps the hardest thing in a world where so many of us feel we are not enough). I think people fear silence because they are afraid to be alone with themselves—because they haven’t learned to befriend themselves with compassion, kindness, acceptance, and love.
If you can learn to accept yourself as you are in this moment, then you will find that moments of silence no longer scare you. Here, you will begin to open the door to your heart. Perhaps the door is stiff and heavy. It might creak and groan as you push and shove your body against it. You might need to wipe away cobwebs or find your heart cluttered and covered in dust, like an attic no one enters.
Let silence help you. Let silence dust the furniture of your heart; polish it here and there.
We don’t need a room of our own to enjoy silence. We can access it wherever we find ourselves. It’s more a state of being than a place to enter into. If you draw aside just once a day, create a small gap where you can be with yourself, a space for your heart to breathe and your soul to smile—a moment where the rush and busyness of life can be paused for a moment. Then, you will begin to hear the words that silence whispers to your heart.
Over time, you will realise you are no longer afraid of silence. You will realise that silence whispers words that decorate your heart with beauty.
Beauty is like a master key; it reaches in and unlocks all the hidden places—those places inside us that need healing, tenderness, and love.
Beauty refreshes, nurtures, comforts, and heals. It shapes the landscape of your heart.
Throughout your day, look around, and you will find it.
Go out and lift your heart to the sun, talk to the moon, tell the little flower how beautiful it is, and then give it back to the world.
Isn’t that what life is all about?
In these moments, you’ll discover you need nothing else. Gratitude will be the doorstop that keeps the door to your heart open. Peace and gentleness will be its gatekeeper.
Painting - Rest by Vilhelm Hammershoi 1905.
"Beauty refreshes, nurtures, comforts, and heals. It shapes the landscape of your heart." - I've been doing a lot of contemplating beauty also, and really loved this. Thank you for sharing Claire
Perfect. Befriending ourselves means we will give ourselves what we need much more easily.
Also, very intrigued by the tea and biscuits tea. How have I never heard of this?