nothing can touch this silence


Nothing particular occurred*, yet everything is different.

Six or seven months ago, I was tormented by traffic noise, by neighbors’ noise – televisions, microwaves, toilets, voices, whistlers and whingers.  I was accustomed to quiet rural habitats where the ambient stillness soothed my own mind’s noise.  But now it was yapping on in a jungle of ‘people’ noise: unbearable.  It drove me nuts.

Nothing, now, can touch this silence.  Which is not to say that the world has become quiet.  It’s a riddle I know, but in the same way that Emptiness is fullness, this Silence is sound-full.  Every conceivable noise arises in IT,  meets no resistance and dissolves back into IT.

In a totally inexplicable way, everything IS this silence.


* the free-fall : 2002-03