Silence is the origin of all that is. Before there was anything, there was silence. We return to the Source through the silence. How often do you sit quietly? For how long? The trick with sitting quietly is to be detached from the noise. Silence is the nosiest place on earth! Disengage. Peacefully coexist. Let the noise go on (and on) without you. Thoughts will come along to shanghai you. Things to do will pop up to hijack you. Great ideas will drop by to kidnap you. Let it all come and let it all go in a "That, too, that, too" kind of way. Remember your breathing through it all. Coming back to your breathing is coming back to the silence. Listen for the sound of breathing. Breathe into your abdomen. Watch the rising and falling of your diaphragm. Aim for 20 minutes twice a day. You are nurturing the silence. Seeking the Source. Our Original Nature resides in the Source. Our Original Nature is our authentic, natural Self. It is who we are without the artificial affectations to fit us in with where we have no business being. Finding our way back to the Source is finding our way back to ourselves. On the other side of silence.
We have to do the work. This is no holiday sight-seeing tour, no "Show up when you feel like it and take as much time off as you like" kind of deal. This is the Hero's Journey, so-called because it actually requires us to put ourselves out in its service. James Joyce (as per Joseph Campbell in A Skeleton Key to Finnegan's Wake and Mythic Worlds Modern Words-- I have to take Joyce indirectly, with interpretation and explanation, because reading him is like reading a foreign language, so, thanks be to Campbell for enabling me to do the work of comprehending Joyce) says there are two kinds of art: Proper Art and Improper Art. Improper Art is pornographic in that it either pulls us to desire to possess it, or pushes us to abhor and be rid of it. Our reaction to Improper Art is Lust, Loathing, Fear and Dread. Proper Art stops us in our tracks. Stuns us into silent reverence. Introduces us to awe and wonder. Makes us forget to breathe. "Aesthetic Arrest," Joyce calls it. Instead of wanting to possess it, we are possessed by it and are transformed forever by our encounter with it. We can think of religion the way Joyce thinks about art. Improper Religion is pornographic. "My God is an awesome God!" We possess God. We own God. It is "My God this," and "My God that." And we give God a round of applause. Not a standing ovation, mind you, a round of applause. We offer God trinkets of attention and loose change in return for all of the things we expect God to give us, including, of course, Heaven for Eternal Life. What a deal. And we talk about God all the time. Proper Religion takes all of our words away. Turns our life inside-out, eats our old life alive, and transforms us forever by the impact of the shock of its reality-- and conscripts us into its service by taking over the direction and control of our life. Our life becomes our work in response to the call/command that is ours to incarnate, exhibit, express, serve and do. What we do is our response to the wonder of oneness with the Art of Religion exemplified in our life. And we don't talk about it at all because the best things can't be said, and the second-best things can only be inferred from the way we live, and the third-best and lower things are what we talk about, news/gossip, weather and sports. Our life is properly spent doing the work that being alive to the truth of how it is really requires in each moment. Life lived any other way is life lived improperly.