The Superior Stillness: Rediscovering Silence in a World of Noise
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In a world that never stops speaking, silence has become the rarest luxury—and perhaps the greatest teacher.
We are surrounded by noise: notifications, news cycles, endless scrolling, the hum of cities and screens. Even our thoughts have learned to chatter without pause. Yet beneath this constant din lies a stillness that waits patiently, offering something the noise never can—clarity, depth, and a quiet kind of power.
Silence is not empty. It is full.
It is the space where true listening begins.
It is the ground from which insight rises.
It is the gentle embrace that holds everything without judgment.
It is the space where true listening begins.
It is the ground from which insight rises.
It is the gentle embrace that holds everything without judgment.
Erling Kagge, the explorer who walked alone to the poles, writes in Silence: In the Age of Noise that silence is not something we must travel to the ends of the earth to find. It is here—between thoughts, in a held breath, in the pause before we speak. It is available to us always, if we are willing to choose it.
And in choosing silence, we choose something superior—not in arrogance, but in essence. Noise demands our attention. Silence invites our presence. Noise fragments us. Silence gathers us whole.
We find this truth in small, daily ways:
Sitting wrapped in quiet, letting the weight of stillness settle over our shoulders as the world fades. Walking without distraction, allowing the rhythm of footsteps to become a kind of prayer. Reading slowly, letting words sink in rather than rush past.
Sitting wrapped in quiet, letting the weight of stillness settle over our shoulders as the world fades. Walking without distraction, allowing the rhythm of footsteps to become a kind of prayer. Reading slowly, letting words sink in rather than rush past.
These moments of chosen stillness do not remove us from life. They return us to it—more awake, more tender, more alive.
In the contemplative traditions we hold close, silence is never an escape. It is the doorway. The place where we meet what is most real.
If the noise feels overwhelming today, we can begin small:
One conscious breath.
One minute without sound.
One page read in quiet.The stillness is waiting.
It has always been waiting.
One conscious breath.
One minute without sound.
One page read in quiet.The stillness is waiting.
It has always been waiting.
And it is superior not because it shouts, but because it does not need to.