The Sound of Non-Silence

by Diana Ross-Gotta

Voices from the Space2Meditate Community

Upon arriving at Won Dharma, I was immediately struck by the beauty of the environment—the expansive landscape. The field dotted with the yellows and purples of wildflowers. The shadows of the Catskill Mountains on the horizon. And the sounds -- the steady hum of grasshoppers accompanied by the swell of cicadas. The chirps and chatter of birds mingled with the whoosh of the mountain breeze. I found myself profoundly grateful to experience such a pristine place for practice. Finding all the ideal conditions to meditate.

And on that first morning, I settled into my seat at the meditation hall. Taking in the spectacular view and the warm energy of all those gathered in practice. As the sound of the gong slowly faded into the song of the crickets and grasshoppers, I took a deep breath and sighed deeply, feeling my body soften. 

For a moment, peace.

And then this immaculate moment was disrupted by the sputter of a cough.

"Oh, no matter," I caught myself thinking. Back to the breath. Back to the beauty of this moment.

And then a sniffle.

The shuffling of shifting bodies on cushions.

The friction of fabric.

A heavier breath.

A sigh.

I began to notice irritation arise. "These sounds were detracting from my experience," I thought.

My body began to tighten, and more thoughts began to proliferate.

And then, the clang of an aluminum water bottle. Its metallic ting reverberating via the pronounced acoustics of the meditation hall.

"Seriously?!" I thought. The temptation to contribute to the sonic environment with a big "Shhhhhh" arose. 

Instead, I took a deeper breath and felt my body soften once again. However, as sounds continued to emerge, I observed those feelings of resistance and irritation persist. I realized I was clinging to what I defined as an ideal experience and pushing away what I viewed as unpleasant.

Now I feel I must share, that much of my meditation practice of the last few years has been done alone or in the virtual company of others, supported by Zoom's optimized audio controls, perfectly filtering out that which might be distracting or undesirable. I discovered I was a bit out of practice when it came to practicing with humans in real life.

Throughout my week at the retreat, I watched my relationship with sound evolve. There was a deeper sensitivity that blossomed. I began to notice the early morning moments when the crickets’ call would cease, giving way to the wakeful chirps of birds. The way the air would move through the trees and invite a gentle rustling of the leaves. And even finding a transformed relationship with the sound of my fellow retreatants. I realized that part of the beauty of practicing in the company of others is the sounds we, as humans, make including the coughs, the sighs, and even the water bottle clangs. These sounds offer a reminder of the living, breathing human sharing in this practice.

On our last morning, as we gathered in that same hall for one of our final sits. I welcomed all the sounds as they surfaced in the stillness. Not just the sounds from the insects, birds, and trees but also the sounds from the humans I had come to know over the last week. With each sneeze, cough, sigh, and shift, I felt a smile spread across my face as I recognized that behind that sound was a human, opening their heart, seeking ease and stillness, looking to awaken. I sent each of them a wave of loving-kindness, wishing them ease, comfort, peace, and joy.

Read more about Diana and her work at her personal website. Diana offers meditation instruction for Space2Meditate once or twice a week.