57. Silence

...being some thoughts on the cacophony of the modern world, and how to escape its ill effects

I have always thought of silence as a luxury item. We live in a world filled with sound, much of it of our own creation: The rumble of traffic, cars and lorries, trains and aeroplanes, the sound of machinery, industry and construction fill our world. Even in the semi rural suburb where I live I can occasionally hear the road not too far away, the trains going past half a mile away, and beyond that, the clatter of something being being delivered by crane from the canal to some industrial concern beyond the railway.

We accept sounds such as these as a necessary part of modern living. Then we fill in the gaps with a host of other sounds in the name of entertainment and diversion:  The chatter of the television, the radio, and the sounds made by our electronic devices playing videos, games, podcasts and music, much of which is accompanied by excitable voices. “Listen to us” - they implore, - “What we have to say is important!” News, discussion, comedy, drama, yes - even poetry, delivered with urgency, crying out to be heard, and much of it accompanied by advertising, delivered with even more excitement, and urgency. All that noise, demanding our attention, demanding our money, demanding that we join in, get with the programme, be a part of the conversation, the commerce, the cacophony. 

Next to all that, silence is a real luxury item. 

Quite often it is a luxury item that I cannot cope with. My mind, used to being surrounded by din and the insistent chatter of others, is prone to fill in silence for itself. My own inner voice continues to chatter on, delivering its own news, discussion, comedy, drama and poetry, with insistence, excitement and urgency. It becomes difficult to switch off, I can’t relax, can’t sleep. My mind is reviewing, re-ordering, scheming, commentating, even when I command it to stop. It can be too much. 

Recently I have taken to sleeping in a headband connected to my phone. I am voluntarily exposing myself to more noise. It is as if I am addicted to sound, and although I would like to enjoy some silence, I can’t quite take it, and need some sort of methadone, to take the edge off the symptoms of withdrawal.

Music doesn’t quite cut the mustard. Obviously music with lyrics is just another way of delivering voices, and those voices too often vie for attention in the same way as the most insistent voices of television and radio do. It is no accident that a large proportion of advertising uses music, much of it song, to ensure that its messaging is firmly planted deep inside our minds. The shake and vac putting the freshness back, the finger of fudge, being just enough to give your kids a treat, and “whooooah, bodyform, shaped for comfort, shaped for confidence, shaped for you¹”. If you have ever been exposed to these lyrics, you will know what I mean. Even though I have never had a need for bodyform products, there will always be some corner of my mental field that is forever bodyform. 

The power of words is immense, and can do immense damage. We are dependent on words, but we have to be very careful what we consume. 

At one point, during my “poetry is shit” period, I felt tormented enough by “the voices” that I almost completely stopped listening to music with lyrics, preferring to switch off by listening to light music and “relaxing classics”.

It seems almost self evident that gentle music can help with switching off, but it is not always the case. My mind often seems to consider gentle music as close enough to silence to want to continue with its own commentary over the top of it. 

Therefore I seldom listen to music through the night on my headband earphones. Ironically I listen to more voices, usually podcasts and radio programming such as the BBC World Service. I select what I listen to for calm delivery and relatively anodyne subject matter and have it at a very low volume. Now if I wake up, my mind has no time to start focusing on my personal stresses and strains, hopes and fears, and all the other stuff that keeps me conscious. Instead, I hear someone talking blandly about tea plantations in the Indian Sub continent, or breakthroughs in the world of meteorology fostered by research into artificial intelligence, and I am quickly asleep again.

Am I unusual in my struggles with sleep? I don’t think so. Plenty of people have difficulty sleeping because they cannot switch off. Plenty of people have difficulty coping with too much audio input. Then again, plenty of people embrace it, even love it, and seem to lead normal, well balanced lives whilst inundated with the constant entreaties of celebrities, disc jockeys, chat show hosts, panelists, experts, commentators and advertisers, constantly calling for their attention.

I wish that I could get the hang of meditation. I understand the theory - Allow the thoughts to come, consider them for what they are, and then brush them away, choosing to concentrate on the breath flowing in… and the breath flowing out. Its all well and good in theory, but I can’t manage it for long. I either fail to brush the thoughts away and give in to the mental cacophony or fall asleep only to wake up with it still playing on in my head. 

There is something about meditation that is close to religion. It seems to occupy that area of the mind that isn’t affected by chatter and demand. Yes, there is plenty of religion that is entirely made up of chatter and demand, the average church service the priest is imploring you for attention in the same way as those characters on the radio and television. And hymns are just another form of music with lyrics designed to sink anchors into your mental territory bringing invasive ideas with them, trying to get you to accept that Jesus, like bodyform, is “shaped for comfort, shaped for you”

Then again, religion also encourages the silence of prayer, the silence of being in a church or holy place, and aiming to align your thoughts with something which feels timeless in some way. Perhaps religion does offer a path away from the cacophony. 

“Through prayer”, said Saint Paul in his Epistle to the Philippians “the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds.”

The trouble with that is that it is awfully difficult to believe in the invisible spirit in the sky that religion seems to postulate. I’m having none of it, but if I can manage a bit of silence every now and then, then maybe the peace which passeth all understanding will pay me the occasional visit. 

I would like that.

Silence

At the end 
of the day 
when the last 
TV Set 
is switched off 
be it plasma 
or lit up
diode 

and the rest 
of the stuff 
the electrical 
stuff 
is inert 
on standby 
or night mode
 
when the fridge 
is through
with vibration 
for now 
and its motor 
and contents 
are stilled 

and the plumbing 
has stopped 
because all 
jobs are done, 
washers drained 
and the cisterns 
all filled
 
Then all 
that is left 
is the absence 
of sound 
silence surrounds 
silence deep 
and profound 








When you’re out 
in the sticks 
many miles 
from the roads 
and the traffic 
of cities 
and towns

when no birds 
sing at all 
when no 
creatures call 
and no breeze 
rustles foliage 
around

then the silence 
is real 
you can touch 
it and feel 
it surrounding 
your body 
and soul 

you can shut 
down your mind 
relax 
and unwind 
luxuriant 
tranquil 
and whole
 
because all 
that you have 
is the absence 
of sound 
silence surrounds 
silence deep 
and profound 








But when noise fills the air 
then your mind’s everywhere 
voices out and within 
can drive you to despair 
and the noise of machines and motors too 
and digital devices calling for you 
have your thoughts spinning around 
spinning out of control 
the traffic, the telly, the noise takes its toll 
and you try to shut down 
and you cry to your God 
God help me!





















God’s only reply 
is the absence 
of sound 
God’s silence resounds 
silence deep 
and profound 

1. I know how much you enjoy footnotes. Or rather I know how much I enjoy footnotes so here’s one about Ella Henderson, (from Grimsby!) who didn’t actually win the X factor when she entered it at the age of 16 back in 2012, but who has enjoyed a chart topping career in music none the less, and has amazingly re-recorded the bodyform song, which came out in the advert a decade before she was born.