Silence is something that many say they seek or wish for, especially among those into meditation and similar things.
And silence can be understood in different ways.
First, it’s the everyday notion of silence. It’s what we find in nature, or on a quiet day indoors. It may have the sounds of nature – of wind, waves, birds, and it’s mostly free of the sounds of civilization – cars, machines, the “dragon breath” of the city.
Then, there is another silence. The silence that’s always here. The silence that’s what we are. The silence that appears as the conventional silence and noise. The silence that cannot be disturbed or interrupted by conventional noise. Although it can be noticed or not, and it can notice itself or not (so much).
And it’s similar with relaxation.
There is the conventional relaxation that’s opposed to tension.
And there is the other relaxation. The one that allows and appears as the conventional relaxation and tension that comes and goes.
And there is the first leading into the second. I especially notice this when I hold satsang with parts of my field of experience. It allows these parts of me to relax. They are met with love and understanding. They do their own inquiry, perhaps noticing what they really are. They relax more deeply. And “I” relax more deeply. And this makes it easier to notice the deep relaxation that’s already here. Everything is this awakeness, this presence, this love, and when this presence, awakeness, love notices itself, there is a relaxation. And it’s here, and perhaps even noticed, even as it sometimes appears as conventional relaxation and tension.