Divinus Silentium

I am weary. I don't mean a physical or mental tiredness; what I feel is deeper in the depths of my being: I am soul-weary. It's as if a cancerous darkness has slowly seeped its way along the path of my life, entwined itself around my body and soaked in through my pores. It's down in my bones now, weighing me down.

I'm just tired, tired of everything. I'm tired of school and all the work and stress that come along with it; I'm tired of people and their caprices and vices and unfaithfulness and ignorance. I'm sick of all the noise and worry and rushing and meaningless chatter; it's like the babbling of monkeys, or the clanging of cymbals…just a harsh, clattering dissonance that deafens my heart and numbs my soul.

I was reading A Wizard of Earthsea today, and I was totally wrapped up in the author's beautifully simple yet elegant prose style, and every various appeal to the senses was so well done that I really felt like I was there. I think that's why I love writing: a good writer can seize the reader in an iron grip and swing him around in a rhetorical whirlwind of catharsis that leaves the reader breathless and entranced. It's like magic; the magic of words. But…I digress.

The powerfully evocative language of this book made my heart ache for a simpler way of living. I feel like I would be totally happy just leaving everything behind, running off into the forest and becoming an isolated mystic, communing with nature and God with no external distractions like money, cars, McDonald's, or the internet. I'm not sure if I would—or could—get lonely for people when I'm just enjoying God's presence and appreciating and living in the midst of His glorious Creation.

Above all else, I think, I yearn for silence. Not just physical, external silence, but a deep inner silence that runs through my heart, mind, and soul, when I would be completely open and vulnerable to God and be able to hear the whispers of His truth coming at me from all sides through his Creation. I love the silence of a heavy forest snowfall in winter, when the wind is completely calm and all is still; it's like the world is asleep, and God is tucking it all in with a blanket of soft, icy splendor. The snowflakes would just be floating down together, slowly and gracefully, like wandering drops of crystal starlight finally coming to rest. And all throughout this massive exodus of heavenly wonder everything is completely, solemnly silent.

I also love the silence of a summer morning, when the ground is covered in silvery dewdrops, and the air is cool and fresh and smells like damp earth and apple blossoms. Then the sun comes up and illuminates everything—from horizon to horizon—bathing everything in liquid gold, and the dew blazes like starlight and everything is made clear, even the wispy gossamer threads of a spider's web. At that moment I experience such a catharsis, such a purging of my heart and mind that I feel at one with God; I feel the heartbeat of His Creation, and it is one with my own.

It's as if the world holds its breath in awe at this special event which mankind brushes off as a simple annoyance in its frenetic quest for meaning and purpose. I really think man might discover more truth just by stopping, falling silent, and observing and listening to the world around him than by reading self-help books, attending seminars, and shelling out his life savings to attend step-by-step courses about how to bring fullness and joy to his life.

Honestly, it's in these moments of silence and solitude that I feel the happiest, the most peaceful and complete. The good feelings I get when I get a good grade on a test, or when I just ate a really good meal don't even compare; those are just temporary things. I just wish that I could make people understand how this feels. I wish I could make them understand with words how weary I am of all this struggling, all this turmoil and noise and movement. It's like mankind is traveling as fast as he can through this life in hope of…in hope of what? I really don't get it. Even Christians seem to be careening through life at breakneck speeds in their quest for Heaven. Yes, the world is fallen; however, that doesn't change the fact that God created it. For all the evils of the world, there is always a kernel of good, a speck of something truly beautiful and lovely: the mark of an omnipotent and benevolent Creator. Sure, we need to strive for Heaven, but I don't think that means we aren't supposed to take delight in the world He put us in. I just want silence and stillness. Is that too much to ask?

(P.S.--the blog title is latin for "divine silence"....or at least I'm pretty sure it is)