External Silence versus the Silence of Solitude

One of the sets of topics I think about a lot is the silence of solitude as 1) context of the eremitical life, 2) goal or telos of the life (where solitude implies communion with God and silence implies completion), and 3) the charism the world needs so badly. Isn't the silence of solitude just about the silence of being alone? It certainly is about this, but it is also more, and over time dwelling in the silence of solitude one comes to know and live ever more fully toward and into this "more". Today I ran across a quote by Thomas Merton I thought was suggestive of the more nuanced and multivalent understanding of the silence of solitude I think hermits will grow into for the sake of the Reign of God and the salvation of others. I thought it might be helpful in explaining a little of why I understand this term of Canon 603 in the way I do. Merton wrote:

[[It is not speaking that breaks our silence, but the anxiety to be heard.”]]

It is not hard to see what Merton means here. We can easily imagine being in a situation where we are meant to listen and yet find ourselves listening only for a chance to throw in our opinion, suggestions, and advice, or tell our own story. Similarly, I would bet every reader can picture a meeting where participants can hardly be silent as a need to speak out stands in tension with the requirement for patience and the need to hear and learn from others. We will recognize the anxiety thrumming through a person who can hardly contain their desire to interrupt a conversation in order to add their own voice and perspective. While they might be able to maintain an external silence, there is a noisiness about them, a noisiness that interferes with receptivity and infects the entire situation with unquiet. Imagine a child who has raised her hand desperately seeking to answer the teacher's question.  The answer itself is not nearly so important as the need to be recognized, affirmed, and given a place to stand in the teacher's awareness and regard. 

The need to be truly heard is a profound and legitimate need for every person at every stage of their life. Human beings are "language events" in this way as well. We are incomplete to the degree we have not been heard. The drives to be recognized, to succeed, to use one's gifts and talents, even to make a name for oneself, and so forth, stem from this need to be heard, accepted, affirmed, and loved for who we are. This, combined with the failure to have these fundamental needs met fuels the anxiety to be heard Merton speaks about. At the same time, it illuminates something of the nature and import of what it means to seek or achieve the silence of solitude.

When I speak of the silence of solitude as context of my vocation as a hermit I mean exterior silence and physical aloneness --- things that are necessary to create the space and time to seek and be exhaustively heard by God. But I also mean the silence and solitude necessary to learn to listen to our own hearts and pour them out to God as well as to come to know that in God's abiding love we are truly heard (accepted, affirmed, loved, and valued) in every dimension of our being. The learning and degree of inner work this takes over time also explains the importance of spiritual direction in the life of anyone moving toward fuller and fuller existence in God. 

When I speak of the silence of solitude as goal I mean that we move toward the completion or fullness of communion with God in which we are completely known and loved, and therefore, know and love in return --- and do so as naturally possible. Any anxiety to be heard, accepted, affirmed, and loved for who we are is entirely quieted while we are more able to be ourselves with clarity and articulateness. More, we are able to be open to others and to empower them to come to the same articulateness --- the same ability to speak themselves to the world. The silence of solitude here sings with life and wholeness. It is poor, chaste, and obedient!! We are fully ourselves with and in God and, to the extent we have been drawn into and reflect the silence of solitude, we are this without striving or struggle. 

I may develop this post further (at the very least I need to address the idea of the silence of solitude as charism), but I think this is enough for the moment. My hope is that it gives some basic sense of how truly profound Canon 603's "silence of solitude" really is. To reduce it to the external silence of  physical aloneness implies we have not yet lived it well enough, with sufficient attentiveness to its depths and nuance. The eremitical journey is a journey into the silence of solitude. It is a journey of growth, healing, sanctification, and communion --- a journey toward fulfillment and completion of our very selves in God.