Day Two
Tuesday November 16
I realized today that in order to restrain myself from speech, I had been unconsciously keeping my mouth tightly sealed and my tongue trapped behind my teeth. Upon recognizing this, I had to pry my mouth open and exhale deeply. Even the act of opening my mouth created a sensation of relief, though tempted a noise to emerge. I noticed that any tiny sound I made broke the tension of silence, even an incoherent squeak or sigh. I hope to arrive to the point in this practice that I will not feel so much bodily pressure. I also would like to explore different forms and guidelines that exist for vows of silence-- am I allowed to laugh? Gasp? I have also been considering holding this one-day-of-the-week experiment with different angles--perhaps for a day I will permit myself to use sounds for expression, as long as I do not employ words. Or through the coinage of words see if I am understood. I do know that I need to work on my hand signs--I did incur several misunderstandings through vague gestures and misdirectioned pointing. It was interesting to see who of my acquaintances were entirely too uncomfortable to stick around after finding out I could not speak, and conversely who was excited by the challenge of figuring out a way around it by staying in my company. I was surprised that a couple of my close friends did not even realize I was being silent for many minutes after being with me. One comment I received was that it took them so long because they could sense my emotions and reactions through my eyes. This sparked in me a desire to spend one of these days focusing entirely on body language and how big of a part it plays in the ecology of communication.
This second day of silence defied my expectation that speech invokes disconnection. In my listening, I began to feel that all subjects were floating abstract until signified by a word. More on this as I dig into the Saussure's texts on the signifier and signified.
Have you talked to some of the priests on campus? There used to be this great Silent retreat at Loyola--and there are many in the area. Ignatius did all kinds of exercises emphasizing silence. I think his commitment to the value of silence might be different than yours, but silence is of the utmost importance in truly appreciating one's spirituality.
ReplyDeleteAlso, the inability to speak is another. Not just silence, but being in a country where you do not understand the language--you are hearing sounds, but you cannot find a response that is audible communication. I think we both know this well.
That is a great idea and a very interesting angle I hadn't yet considered as being a possible fruit to bear from this project! Pursuing this notion of looking into silence in terms of Ignatian Spirituality, I did some exploring and came across this website: http://ignatianspirituality.com/8438/silence/
ReplyDeleteI found even the first paragraph to resonate with my frustrations: "Practicing silence is an act of faith precisely because one cannot know for certain that anything is to be gained from it. It might be a waste of that most precious commodity: time." Throughout the course of this experiment, I have certainly doubted the validity of conducting a thesis and study of language in such a way, fully aware of the potential shortcomings of my makeshift attempt to glean a better understanding of my relationship to language, and my relationship to everything else through language. But being that this is the way I have set out to learn, I have needed to nourish and sustain a sense of confidence that though my findings may not be particularly grandiose or pioneering in the academic or philosophical realms of linguistic study, I am reporting a genuine and firsthand experience, which is perhaps the most valuable asset my thesis has to offer. And while Ignatius' promotion of silence is geared towards attaining a more prayerful mind and greater connection with God, I think we would perhaps overlap in the valuing of deep attentiveness and reflection as way to enhanced awareness and connectivity--whether that be to God, some other metaphor for the present moment, reality, perception, existence, society, culture, etc. There is something to be said for and gained from Ignatius' reasons for silence that could infuse this project with a stronger spirit of determination and purpose. Whether it is taking a leaf from Ignatius' book of perseverance ("Learning exercise after a sedentary life takes patience, tenacity, courage, and the willingness to tolerate setbacks. Similarly, learning silence takes all these things."), better faith in the potential of the project, or a sure sense that while its immediate effects may not always be apparent, silence does something to its user, something good in the way of growth, there is much to learn from other practices of silence, whether or not their founding motives are the same.
So thanks for the thoughts!