In the movie Kundun, the Tibetan Lama's province has been taken over by the Chinese and they have trucks driving through the streets constantly blasting propaganda over loudspeakers. Now remember, this is a remote village which sits atop the Himalayan mountains, where even the wind is silent. The Dalai Lama says, "what distresses me the most is that they have stolen our silence.” In the midst of invasion, terrorism, violence, war and death, the one thing that the leading spiritual holy leader of the country regrets is the loss of silence. What value must he place on silence to regret its loss so deeply, so beyond any other.
We play the radio, tapes and cd's in our cars The TV is on in most homes 85% of the time. No place is sacred from the incessant ringing of cell phones. Traffic and construction noises pound, sirens screech eradicating all evidence of the silent universe. There is no level of noise that cannot be heard nor does not father disturbance, but there are many levels of creative tone that, to our ears, are inaudible, are silent. Tone pervades all of creation, but tone is defined as quality of sound, the one necessary impulse for creation. Noise is defined merely as screeching disturbing clamor.

It may be that we not only need to look at the level, quality and quantity of "noise" that is pummelling us from outside ourselves, but also that noise that begins internally. The voice within ourselves of condemnation, judgement and oppression. This, too, is noise that steals our silence.
Make no mistake, there are beautiful sounds all around us that bless us and comfort us and soothe us. Sounds that never need to be silenced. But these sounds are vibrations of the silence made audible, sounds that permeate in unity. Noise is that which fights and vies for power and control.
What price have we paid for the loss of silence. Have we lost our ability to listen? Have we desensitized ourselves to such an extent that we no longer hear truth? Do we ache with the yearning for the voice of reason, the message of God, the sounds of nature. In the distracting rubble of noise around us, we have not lost our mind, but one of our senses. And if we consent, even involuntarily, to the loss of one of the senses how far behind are the others? 37% of the American public complains of "ringing ears" syndrome. Now we are creating "noise" from within as well, or are our eardrums "ringing" in protest of the incumbent clatter that bombards them each day.
Are the friendships you savor the ones where you can spend moments, or long minutes turning into hours that are in complete silence. Do those silences make you uncomfortable or is it there that you finally rest. We have become so used to filling all the voids, making sure we are not empty in any way, making conversation to "avoid the unpleasant quietude". What is it we are really avoiding. Do we feel uncomfortable in the silence that reflects merely the lack of conversation or does the silence make us acutely aware of the uncomfortableness within us, born of neglect, abandonment and disregard. Remember we are human "beings", not human talkings, not human doings. Try "being" for a little while. "Be" with yourself. "Be" with your partner. "Be" with your friend. "Be" with nature. "Be" with the God of your choice. How much deeper can our connection to our friends, to nature, to our God go if we are not distracted by the noise.
The Dalai Lama felt the loss of silence was their greatest defeat. Maybe personal, global and universal victory lay in our ability to silence the roar of mankind and begin to "hear" the tone of creation and therefore connect to a greater purpose, audible only in the hush of the gap we call silence.