A love letter to silence

I am used to traveling, mostly for work. There are usually meetings involved, transport I must locate and hop on, things that must be accomplished within a certain timeline, specific people to connect with, places to be. I have traveled less for vacation, though that also has its conventions: a different place to go to that must be enjoyed or at least experienced, some sort of time limit for all the relaxing that must be had.

It is a long time since I traveled like we are doing now, as if it were a move. It has been only 3 days, and already we are settling in like we live here, which in fact we do. For now.

This is a different rhythm.

In part, it is Berlin itself. This city rises early and ends on time. There are no endless nights or “city that never sleeps” here. On Wednesday, we tried to have dinner (after an art show at a canal boat, very Berlin) at a neighborhood joint that advertised being open until midnight. We arrived at 10pm. “The kitchen closes at 9:30,” we were told. “Except on the weekends, when we close at 9:30.” We relished the absurdity of the statement.

In part, it is the rhythm of my every-day life in this time zone. I get up at 7am, not 5:30am. I start meetings at 10am, not 7am. As a result, I have time to arrive in my body, and crucially to sit in silence for a good long while before I have to focus on work. It feels luxurious, almost decadent.

It also feels safe and important and right.

The benefits of meditation are well documented, but to me it’s not just about activating the parasympathetic nervous system and calming the mind — though it surely is that. To me, my morning meditation feels like a memory of spaciousness that can last all day. I might get annoyed or feel activated or angry or deeply sad. But the feelings seem outside of my core being, somehow. They are in me, of course, and I feel them. But it is almost as if I have a space of complete silence within that isn’t touched by any of it. I can go to that place and breathe before I react.

Victor Frankl famously said: “Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom.”

In this time zone, I can expand that space, facilitated by breathing, discipline, and routine, but mostly by how I get to organize my day.