I’ve been thinking about how to express my feelings, and just recently I found an interview with the Tibetan nun Tenzin Palmo. This was her reply when the topic of her eight-month isolation in caves was touched upon:

“…it has this whole idea of identity of the roles which we normally play. If one is relating with others, one is relating within a role, even if it’s male or female, one’s profession, mother, daughter, husband, wife, etc. We all have these roles which we are playing for others, and when someone is in solitude, especially when one is looking inside, then it gives a chance for all these various identifications to be peeled away because why bother to play roles to oneself? It gives you the space for more deep layers of consciousness to arise…”

So in these times of seclusion, there’s clearly been more isolation. Interaction is highly discouraged and there’s more silence. It reminds me of that time in college when I vaguely heard about meditation in silence (not speaking). The idea was very vague, but it grew in me to the point that I was really eager to try it out. I didn’t plan it very well and just hoped the world would understand. It didn’t, and I had to face all sorts of situations. My professors got mad that I wasn’t talking, a friend’s mom screamed at me impatiently because I wasn’t replying to her questions at her table, and I got lost in Mexico City Center. I was unable to ask for directions due to my silly stubbornness but firm conviction. Funnily enough, I remember I had no real struggle during those days. It was as if the fact of not speaking was giving me a seat in the back of my head where I could see what was happening, free from interaction. And that gave me so much space, so much peace.

That college experience stayed with me. Now, years later, during these times I’ve been “forced” to have more silence in my life. And whether I wanted it or not, once again, I got back to that mysterious space that makes me see things from a different perspective. Somehow, I see the world as both familiar and transformed. I hear more, I see more, and with a bit of luck, sometimes I get to understand a bit better.

My reflection from these times is that silence can be hard, but when approached with curiosity and openness, it can reveal parts of the world that are hidden from our awareness—an awareness that gets so distracted by the constant movement of everyday life. For me, it was a great chance to get in touch with myself in a beautiful way. I encountered parts of myself that I had forgotten. It was a painful and harmonious moment of recognition and growth that I will treasure for a long time.