This is a guided meditation that I recorded to complement my recent post about sound and music. I hope it gives you a living experience of what I was talking about. You may be able to hear the sounds of life around me as I speak—bells from the church next door in particular. Normally I edit these out as much as I can, but since this is a sound meditation I left them in.
Whether or not you listen to the meditation, you can still read on for more ideas and inspiration on the topic of sound, hearing, and silence.
A few notes…
In the meditation I referred to your animal self, inviting you to immerse yourself in sound awareness the way that many animals do. I was inspired to use this metaphor by my cat, who seems to spend hours just sitting around and listening to the world with his eyes half-closed (with an occasional yawn for good measure). For those of you who enjoy that kind of thing, here’s a gorgeous video of big cats from Africa, basically doing the same thing. Watch between 1-7 mins—you should be able to spot the tracking ears. After the 3 min. mark, you might also be able to see the tiny movements of the leopard’s diaphragm area, indicating light, soft and relaxed breathing.
As I was preparing this meditation, I happened to watch the Marvel superhero movie Morbius, in which the main character develops super-hearing after injecting himself with bat DNA. I don’t recommend the movie, but there are a couple of wonderful scenes when Morbius engages his super-hearing and he starts to perceive the world as pure vibration and movement. By far my favourite part of the entire film is towards the very end, when he stands on top of a building and can ‘hear’ the whole city. The visualisation of the experience is brief but hauntingly beautiful. Unfortunately I couldn’t find that clip, but here is another one where he uses his super-hearing to fly (a bit like what your awareness is doing as it tracks sounds):
The good news is that you don’t need to have super-hearing or bat DNA to delight in sound or have it alter your perception. All you need is an open, welcoming awareness and the magic happens on its own.
In the meditation I also mentioned the relationship between silence and space—essentially they are different sensory experiences (visual/tactile vs. auditory) of the same thing. In art there is the concept of ‘negative space’: the empty space in a painting or artwork that lets the rest of it come forward. Zen paintings are known for their use of negative space, which is another expression of their love of silence. One of my favourites:
Can you feel the rich interplay between form and emptiness, shape and space? It is so simple and yet so alive and dynamic. Their poetry also has the same effect, especially when spoken aloud. Here is an ancient one:
A cuckoo calls
And through the great bamboo grove
I see the moon.
—BashoAnd a modern one:
Final thoughts
The end of the year tends to be a time either filled with activity and crowded with noise; or conversely a time of loneliness, unbearable quiet and isolation. Learning to find your rhythm and flow through sounds and silence, form and space, can bring you much-needed balance and peace. Whether you listen to the meditation or not, I wish you a time of radiant silence and joyful sounds.
And if you did listen to the meditation: how did you find it? What was your experience of sound? Feel free to share your thoughts with me in the comments.
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Sound and Silence Meditation