A Golden Silence
By Admin | December 15th, 2011 | Published in reflections, relationships, Stories of Abdu'l-Baha, tests
photo credit: livelovelaugh22 on Flickr
This is written in response to this story of Abdu’l-Baha:
It is easy to be silent and listen when you are experiencing culture shock; when you find yourself wide-eyed in public, stunned by the people around you and by what they choose to say. While living in a country where I did not speak the language, the conservations that occurred around me on the bus, or while I sipped a cappuccino, or stared at the ceiling of my apartment building’s elevator — these words became the birdsongs, the music of my daily life.
But now I can understand. every. single. word.
And it turns out people don’t always talk about poetry. Or botanical gardens. Or their last witnessed sunset. So being silent these last few days has been easy. But in general, silence and I are fair-weather friends.
Within the sanctuary of a loving family, my teen angst rebellion materialized on my tongue. I always had to have the last word. Even when threatened with punishement. I would say exactly what I wanted to say, regardless of how hurtful, rude or ugly my screams were. Once housebound, my statements and my door slamming was never worth it. Around this time I studied the Tablet of the True Seeker in which Baha’u'llah states:
He must never seek to exalt himself above any one, must wash away from the tablet of his heart every trace of pride and vain-glory, must cling unto patience and resignation, observe silence and refrain from idle talk. For the tongue is a smoldering fire, and excess of speech a deadly poison. Material fire consumeth the body, whereas the fire of the tongue devoureth both heart and soul. The force of the former lasteth but for a time, whilst the effects of the latter endureth a century.
This is a test that will shadow me, I’m sure, for the rest of my life for it is one thing to observe silence in during a calm conversation, or when you are culture shocked, and another to be quiet when the person you are speaking with is just downright wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. Or when you have the perfect zinger on the tip of your teeth.
In those moments, silence and wise listening are burnished gold. And as I become older, I see more and more flashes of gold in the panning of my personality. Flashes. But at least I am learning: learning to hold my tongue and to open my ears.
