As in birth, so in death – we should be speechless.
Maybe because I work in the realm of compassionate care, maybe because each and every day I'm reminded of my own fragility, my time here as being finite, as well as my timelessness…I take some of that time to feel the silence of special moments. Nowhere is that more profound than in being born and in dying - although being amongst all the blessings of nature comes close.
The other day, the family Rutherford, proudly introduced their new baby boy to the world through social media in a tender photograph of newborn grace. I sat silently in front of that picture and contemplated the world in which this little guy was born. How special we are in that untouched innocence. And I thought – from this moment on, in every joyful triumph and through every sad or hurtful setback, he will unknowingly, attempt to get back to the inherent understanding of what being alive means, what he is displaying here in this very photograph – a bliss and a gratefulness for living.
It took me a long time to understand that when we triumph in an endeavor, witness tremendous beauty or suffer a traumatic or profound event - a death, a birth, an unexpected grace, a damaged relationship, a job loss, an embarrassment - sitting with someone in silence, a tender touch on the knee perhaps, holding a hand, a gentle glance; is the language of the moment. The silence and being present is all that's required. Words fall short, especially in dying…unless you are whispering into your loved one's ear to give him/her permission and assurance that all will be well and that they can let go.
For life to have meaning, we must be open to profound moments of feeling. We need to let them pass through us and not push them away or cover them up with so many words. Once words are spoken, a sunset can become a science lesson, a newborn can become a dialogue on what's to come, a death can foster well-meaning but cliché “comfort" phrases - and many times, if we pay attention, words to others are often used to comfort ourselves in our own discomfort. Consider, the times we really suffer, are the times we haven't stopped to feel our own emotion and just be with it.
Especially in sorrow, silent understanding, silent presence, heals. When someone can hear and hold our suffering with us, when we can find it in ourselves to share it, let it be in the room…we are soothed. Stop speaking. Stop fighting yourself. That's when we and our profound sorrow and ecstatic bliss holds us in gratitude for all things.
SILENCE IS GOLDEN
