I’d like to say something short and snappy about silence.
But first, an anecdote.
A man meets an old friend in the street – but is a little surprised at how much he’s changed over the years.
‘Steve, you used to be so large and now you’re so slight! You used to be bald and now you have hair! And, I mean, you used to be tall and now you’re so short’
And the other person says, ‘My name’s not Steve’
‘Oh, and you’ve changed your name as well!’
Here is a man who cannot receive. He can’t give up on his way of looking at things. And no amount of evidence will shift that: ‘I know what I like and I like what I know’.
In this mental construction, there is no possible way for newness or fresh possibility to arrive. The diseased mind pushes back on anything that doesn’t tally with its outlook.
In short, it cannot receive; and the ability to receive is, perhaps, the most fundamental aspect of human growth.
The worst silence is a closed silence, that seals our prejudice in.
The best silence is an open silence which, like a new day, starts all over again.
Let it be.