What do a power cut and a Sudanese mountain have in common? Silence, sweet Silence! They can get you back to your source.

The Power (Cut) and the Beauty!

This evening, just as I was about to put my daughter's favourite meal - home made vegetable lasagne - into the oven, the lights went off. A power cut had us standing slightly helpless in the dark.

Luckily, the house is full of candles and my solar powered torch always works, so we fumbled our way to the fuse box and then to the door to find the street lights were off and everyone around us was in darkness too. This was a first for us and I liked it.

My daughter was a little disappointed at having to replace lasagne with bread and cheese, but there we sat by candle light and made plans of what to do if this lasted for days. We felt a little adventurous and talked about what it would have been like to live without electricity, how people who have long power cuts in freezing conditions cope...

And then, we noticed the silence - no buzz from the PC, no music, no tv. My cell phone battery was flat, so I was unreachable. How strangely liberating that was!

We went for a walk to find out how many houses or streets were affected. Despite the October drizzle and the unusual darkness, the sky seemed brighter than usual. But it was the silence that felt best.

In our civilised world it is virtually impossible to experience true silence. There is almost always the buzz of something around. Some years ago I had my most profound experience of total stillness.

The Stillness of the Desert

Whilst in the deserts of Sudan, I left the little group I was travelling with for a while to climb up a solitary mountain (well, a rather high hill, really). Once I sat up there, I felt on top of the world. But what struck me most was the total and complete stillness that surrounded me.

Not a car, no voices, no breeze, not even birds singing. I sat and stared and thought and after a while my thoughts turned into silence as well. No-thing became everything. It was one of the most beautiful experiences in my life. Ever since, I have loved the sound of silence.

Many people find silence unbearable. They need a background noise. Have you ever thought about why? Simple really, it stops your inner voice from coming through. As long as there is chatter, whether external or internal, you dont have to face you. Whatever memories or fears may be lurking in the depths of the subconscious mind can't be heard against the deafening din of 'civilised' life.

Silence Heals

The downside is, you also cant heal your Self. You suppress all the undigested junk food of your life and keep it in your system. Not a nice thought.

If you want progress, you have to get comfortable with silence at some point the sooner the better. But how? Lets face it to sit on a mountain, alone in the middle of nowhere where you simply cant help but understand the true depth of just being, is not something you get to do every day.

Apart from turning off radios, phones, TVs, buzzing PCs how can you turn off your buzzing mind?

Here's How!

By doing what my Alexander Technique teacher showed us last week...

Lie on your back , your knees raised and your feet flat on the floor (or mattress). Rest your hands on your tummy and stretch your arms a little (creating a V-shape at the side of your body) to create room in your chest to breathe. Rest your head on nothing but a flat book and feel the blanket or mattress beneath you support your spine.

We did that during our lesson and it was wonderful. Lying in silence, doing nothing, our bodies supported by the floor (or bed, if you prefer). Normally, I meditate sitting up - this was almost better, as I could totally relax my spine and let my mind float in silence on the waves of my breath.

When the Lights Came Back Up

Now the power at home has returned, I felt I had to share my thoughts on silence before the noise of the world rushes back in. Perhaps one day I'll stand with my daughter on a mountaintop in Sudan - but until then, I'll use every opportunity to teach her - and myself - the power of silence.