Who am I talking to???

I've stopped talking to myself. When I first went on voice rest (123 hours and 29 minutes ago - but hey, who's counting?) I found I carried on an internal dialogue (make that monologue in case there was any doubt about my sanity). My brain just wouldn't stop - it was fixated on the fact that I wouldn't be able to talk for 14 days. I wasn't feeling panicky - it wasn't that - I found my thoughts just churned. They finally settled, which means I must be getting used to this self-imposed exile. And it's got me thinking about what it means to be silent. Several friends have told me about people they know who have taken a vow of silence for a year or more. But they always add the caveat "they did write notes". Well, if they wrote notes were they truly silent? Does silence only apply to the spoken word? What about not speaking up about an injustice - is that not also keeping silent? And is keeping silent different than practicing silence? One implies judgment, doesn't it?

I decided to do a little searching (how did we ever live without google?? although my eldest daughter reminds me never to trust anything from wikipeida) and I found this from B.P. Wadia. I don't know B.P., I'm just siting my source. Here's the link: http://www.teosofiskakompaniet.net/BPWadia_TheVowOfSilence2005.htm

Our modern Theosophical student has not fully recognized the occult significance of silence. A vow of silence does not mean to become mute and not to speak at all. It consists in: (1) self-imposition of periodic silence; (2) not indulging at any time in injurious and untruthful speech; (3) not giving way to useless speech; (4) not asking questions on philosophy or practice till what has already been taught or is before us is fully scanned and thoroughly looked into from the point of view of our particular questions; (5) not indulging in ahankaric speech, i.e., not making statements about the Divine Self or Ego in terms of our kamic or lower nature; (6) not indulging in injurious speech regarding our lower nature, our own faults and weaknesses, lest by speaking of them we lend them the strength that ensues from the power of speech; (7) not to speak even that that is true unless at proper times, to proper people, and under proper circumstances.


He (or I guess it could be she, although I'm presuming he...wonder why that is?? Ok, I digress) goes on to say:

No doubt, it is difficult, well nigh impossible, for the moderns to attain this control over speech; but if not fully and wholly at least partly and partially it can be and should be practiced.

Deliberate speech will be the first result.

Hot diggity dog, this B.P. is on to something!

I'm not getting hand cramps from writing (as many have speculated I would) because I'm not writing all that much. To write is laborious, so each decision to write, and therefore each decision to communicate, becomes a conscious one. Yes, Jonathan, it is very Zen!

In just a few days this sacred node has turned an opinionated, critical, idealistic, energetic talker into a ... well, you be the judge! And will it last??

"All the noise, noise, noise, noise!" said The Grinch.

People do some really funny things when they find out you can't talk. When I first started to get hoarse I would talk very softly. Often the person I was talking to would immediately start talking more quietly. Or how about my twelve year old? She is hearing impaired and uses lip reading to supplement her hearing aid, so sometimes I just mouth a response hoping she'll read my lips. Usually she just leans her good ear closer and says, "huh??". A couple of people suggested I learn sign language (yeah, like everyone can understand sign). Writing is even weirder. This weekend I had two people who responded to one of my notes by reaching for my pad and pen to write me back a response! We laughed and laughed about how silly that was and yet it was so automatic. If I'm writing, then they must also.

Or, take my family, for example (or just take my husband...no, please, I insist!). They have continued to ask questions and call out my name to find out what room I'm in at the house. My family still treats me as if I can talk. It is so automatic and my malady isn't visible, so there isn't a reminder. They just do not yet get it that I'm not supposed to talk. This weekend, before we left to go to Charlotte for a dance convention, I blew up at the girls and actually swore OUT LOUD. When I cooled down I had a revelation - it has not been too hard for me to change my behavior (not talking) but I can't make them change their behavior (asking questions). Hmm, trying to change other people...what is it that the sages say about that? Still, how can it be that they are forgetting something that is so monumental to me??

Friends, on the other hand, don't seem to have as hard a time. Take this weekend, for example, at the dance convention. The dance events are usually an excuse for the dance moms to get together and gossip, watch dance, shop and partake in adult refreshment. Notice how I put gossip first on that list - dance moms love to talk! So, everyone at the studio was quite worried about me. They offered to help me check in and admonished me if they caught me talking while ordering food. And when my dry erase pen died on Saturday night, one of the mom's ran to the gift shop and bought me a pad and pen! She didn't want me to feel left out. So sweet! I got an offer of marriage, too. That's right (wait for it) I'm now "the perfect wife!". Yep, I get a lot of "your husband must be so happy".

Seriously, being at an event where talking is a primary pastime and not being able to talk...let me do a lot of listening. And here's what I think, everyone should have this opportunity. To just listen. So much of what we say is noise - trifles and tidbits, questions and queries, noise. Yes, I have opinions when the moms get started on one of their riffs about the studio or school or girls in general. But it wasn't so hard to keep them to myself when I knew I had to - and I was surprised. One of the (rare) dads who came even commented on how frustrated I must be because I like discussion and usually have some good comments to offer and now just can't due to the laborious task of writing. I wasn't that frustrated - these people were kind and didn't demand much from me. They didn't ignore me, but they also gave me space to just be there. They stopped when I did have something to add via paper, but didn't ask too many questions. I liked watching the dynamic - who talks when and about what - how different groups clumped together and then drifted apart. It is almost like being a fly on the wall, but a nice fly, a fly you don't want to kill but are perfectly happy to let exist on your wall, listening. In nursing school they told us that the hardest thing for us to do would be to just listen. And it's true, our society isn't comfortable with silence. We talk just to fill the void.

I'm learning to be comfortable with my silence.

Get Out of Jail Free Card

I figured I was going to have to do a lot of explaining about my silence, so I made up this card and had it laminated: "Please excuse my silence. I am not trying to be rude. I am on voice rest." I thought I would hand it to cashiers and receptionists as a quick and easy way to explain my situation. It did not, however, have the intended effect. One person barely scanned it while she continued to talk non stop to me. Another read it and promptly asked me a question! I threw the card away.

It Starts Saturday

I can't believe I've finally ventured into the land of blogs - what's taken me so long? So here's the deal; I have a small node on my vocal chord. What's that you say? Hey, you are sitting in front of a computer...google it! (or goodsearch it, or yahoo it, although none of those are a verb as of yet). I had a really bad sore throat and then lost my voice and then kind of got it back but it was still not right. I wait a month (like a good girl, don't want to rush to the doctor too soon, give it time), and he tells me it's a node. Well, he didn't just tell me. He looked up my nose and told me it was inflamed and that my septum was crooked and didn't my husband complain about my snoring? For the record, I don't snore (true!). Then he sprayed some stuff up my nose to open up the passages and numb them a bit. Ten minutes later and he is sticking a tube down my nose and saying "uh oh". Good news - I don't need surgery and he has some allergy pills to supplement my allergy nasal spray. Bad news - no caffeine (ok, three diet coke a day habit now has to go to one), drink lots of water (no problem there), and STRICT VOICE REST for two weeks. Ha! "But," I say, "I'm subbing for the school nurse on Wed. and Fri."! "Well," he says, "I guess your voice rest won't start until next week." Yikes!

Those of you who know me now get to laugh loudly. Why? Because there have been rumors, complaints, opinions, that I talk a lot. Well, I sometimes do, but not all the time. However, once you get labeled as a talker you can't live it down. No matter how WRONG it may be!!! So, funny, imagine me unable to talk. No, sort of able to talk but NOT allowed. Is this the worst part? No, the worst part is not being able to sing. Singing is like breathing for me, although I don't do it professionally (wish I did). Singing (and exercise) keep me sane.

Can I do it? Can I refrain from talking? Everyone seems to think this will be hard - everyone except for me. I secretly know that this is not hard. Why? Because I am tired of answering questions ("Mom, how do I...? Honey, where is the....? "When do we...?), all blessed day long I answer questions. Is this my perfect excuse to check out? To give up responsibility for knowing everything? And how will the world manage??