Silence
stood motionless in the doorway, observing the room, patient, unnoticed,
undetectable to the others in the room, as people passed by without
acknowledgement or, worse, passed right through it as if, by chance, it
inhabited another dimension that only I, sitting here watching it watching us,
was aware.
The din from the chaos in the room had reached a crescendo that seemed to have
no ceiling; no definitive apex. The silence made no motion, gave no hint that
it would advance or retreat, it stood unmoved and without the slightest hint of
its intention - supposing it had one.
I could not take my eyes from it. It held me captive with its occult being, its
arcane presence, what appeared as absolute weightlessness; no particular height
or depth, no indication of mass or weight, nothing that would give the remotest
indication of holding a place in time or space. Yet, I was enchanted,
spellbound, held in some ethereal rapture.
The room began to lose some of its revelers as they passed through silence and
left the echoes of their raucous laughter in the hallways that led to the
street below and beyond.
It waited. I waited. It did not move. I did not move. It watched us and I
watched it watching us.
Finally, the last of the guests passed by me, offering their gratitude for
hosting such a great party and looking at me as I remained silent and steady,
never taking my eyes off of the silence. I felt a kiss upon my forehead from
whomever she was and, out of my peripheral vision, I caught a wave goodbye. The
door shut behind them, the drunken remnants of the celebration heading down the
street. That is when I became aware of the sudden lack of sound.
Silence raised its arms above its head, no hands were visible but, from the
ends of its arm came a soft visual blurring that encompassed everything as it
made its way around the room; everything but me. I remained just as I always
was, yet the room and everything in it looked as if a child had tried to erase
these images from the paper. Had it been a photograph, it would seem as if it
had aged 50 years lying on the ground outdoors, where the elements were slowly
erasing the memories carried in the image upon it.
I could not hear a thing outside of my head but I was suddenly aware of the
loud thoughts shooting helter-skelter around inside of my mind. I could hear my
thoughts as they vied for my attention; one thought squealing louder than the
other.
Finally, I looked up at the silence and into the blankness that would have held
its face and sent out one thought - “Please”, I asked, “silence the thoughts. I
want to know what you are, I want to be like you.”
The thought of having total silence seemed impossible, yet, at that moment I
could no longer hear my own thoughts, though I knew them, I could no longer see
the room, yet I imagined it still there, I could no longer sense anything, yet,
I was aware.
I sat quietly in the chair that felt no weight from my body upon it; my body
felt nothing under it, no cushioned support, no texture, nothing solid beneath
my feet. I watched as the silence dropped to the floor and, like a fog, covered
the floor and filled all the empty spaces in all the rooms of the apartment.
Then, it retracted back into itself in the same way it had unfolded and, once
again, stood before me.
All I can say about that experience is this, everything within the room - that
which we can see, touch, hear, etc. - it was all clean. Not the type of
cleaning one does with a rag and soap; it was clean like the total absolution a
god would impart upon a sinner in baptism.
Finally, it spoke to my mind. They will come and they will find you here in
body. But, you have come to know me, you have come to be like me, you are now
silence. Most of those who know you will refer to it as a death. However, what
has been given to you is a birth.
This is not an existence without consequences, silence can be broken, filled
with useless banter, scorched by words hurled as weapons towards one’s enemies,
echo the cries of those who suffer. You must accept that we are useless when
others scream for help. We cannot offer anything; we are watchers and we are
the result of what noise leaves behind. In the wake of the cacophony of the
living, we wait for the stillness. There, we will make all things clean from
sound. We will take with us those who wish to come and leave the others behind
for other journeys to be cast upon them.
Just think. When you have found an old tattered house, and enter it, the
silence is deafening. Everything remains as it was, yet nothing carries any
remains of the lives that once occupied the space. It has been cleared away and
everything is now silence.
Silence is the strongest weapon mankind has in its arsenal. To not speak out
against injustice, answer those cries for peace, those pleas for assistance and
help from their oppressors, to not use speech to teach, to open hearts and
minds, to ask the questions why, to never use the voice to sing praises of
thanks, to tell someone we love them, to share a word of hope; a word of support...
silence becomes a poison; toxic in its absence.
But, when one meets with the true silence, it is a place of refuge, a place of
security and a feeling of oneness with the All. Silence is louder than bombs,
louder than the insults directed at one like arrows that pierce their hearts,
louder than all disasters, the screaming hordes, the impending doom.
True silence is a gift. It removes the facade that covers all things. True
silence can see beyond doors, past the walls, and into the heart of the soul.
Animals can sense us and use their thoughts to communicate and never, in my
incarnation, have I ever crossed paths with a creature in the wild that does
not stop to offer its gratitude. Silence is held in high esteem among the wild.
The howl of the lone wolf rings out and silence carries it to the ears of those
it is trying to find. The squeaks and whistles of the dolphin are carried
within the silence to its loved ones. The birds soar on the breath of silence.
You are now the essence of silence and it is your greatest responsibility is to
stand and wait; be patient. That is the hardest part of being silence, the
waiting.
But, you will come to know when it is time to wash everything clean and take
what truly matters - the essence of those who called our name; summoned us and
acknowledged their desire to leave this place and become like us.
Your death was inevitable, but it would not have happened so easily without me
to come and wrap you in these ethereal arms and hold you until you could accept
it.
You seem to have known while still in your corporal mind. You could see me as I
could see you. You asked to become me and that made my purpose here much
easier. You are just beginning to learn, but you have already taken many
strides in your evolving. You were the only one I have ever encountered who
could see me and made the effort to connect. You are not afraid.
Come with me, I will teach you what you need to know and show you your many
strengths as well as the many limitations that await you.
Silence, for many is experienced for a fraction of a moment and makes them
extremely uncomfortable. Silence is profound and, in truth, is louder than
sound.
Prepare yourself for that truth. It is the great enigma, a conundrum, an
oxymoron, a paradox. But, it’s true, silence is indeed louder than sound, yet
very few have ever experienced absolute silence. You have experienced silence,
yes, but you have not experienced absolute silence. Prepare yourself, we are
about to enter into it. Once we do, you will experience all things at once and
yet nothing at all. Your compassion will continue, but it will fade in time and
your purpose will be crystal clear.
Remember this above all else, this plane is made up of more nothingness than
mass, and in this nothingness is where their pseudo-existence takes place. They
believe that what their senses perceive is all there is.
Some will see you and wait - just as you did for me. Others will never notice
silence until it resonates within their ears as a high-pitched frequency. They
will fight it. You must be patient. Eventually, they will no longer notice the
frequency or the pitch, they will not take notice of the vibrations that warp
their sensory perceptions. They will not expect the nothingness that will
surround them and they will not want to let go of this... hologram they have
created for themselves.
Now, let go of your reality here, free yourself from the bones and the skin
that have been your identity, rise and follow me. Where we are going is where
we are.
M
TERESA CLAYTON
