Connoisseur of Quiet
My daughter “jinxed” me the other day. It’s a game I remember from my childhood that begins when two people say the same word at the same time. Then both people count to ten as fast as they can and say “jinx.” The person who completes the count the slowest is then not allowed to speak until someone says their name. I have to admit that I sometimes count slowly on purpose, so that she will win and I can enjoy a few minutes of silence. I have come to discover that I am a connoisseur of quiet.
A connoisseur is defined as “an expert judge, in matters of taste.” It is someone who has studied something in depth, and knows the nuances of a particular field. This isn’t the sort of knowledge that is learned from a book, it comes from experience. Some people are connoisseurs of wine and cheese, others of art and music. I am called to the space between things; to the quiet. Just as a wine connoisseur swirls the wine in a glass to view the “legs,” deeply breathes in the bouquet, and swishes a sip in the mouth to get the full pallet of flavors; a connoisseur of quiet explores all of the nooks and crannies in a moment of doing nothing. Like the experience of allowing your eyes to adjust to a darkened room, where things slowly begin to show themselves the longer you sit, stillness has its secrets to share. When you sit in silence, without any intention of chasing after pleasant thoughts, or pushing unsavory thoughts away, things naturally begin to settle. Where at first we only notice the noises of an active mind, we begin to see what my teacher calls “the pregnant mystery.” A nothingness that bears the seeds of all possibility. Meditation and acupuncture are similar in that they allow the active mind to settle, and then show you a deeper world of peace and possibility. Just as you can only hear a pin drop in a quiet room, you can typically only hear the mind drop in a quiet moment. At first, you only notice the mind’s chatter when you sit down in the quiet, but slowly your awareness adjusts to the absence of something to attach to. This is the place where deep healing and restoration happen. This is one of the greatest gifts of acupuncture. Most western medical appointments offer tests to diagnose and medications to treat symptoms, but often are an attempt to alleviate symptoms while changing as little as possible. Acupuncture and meditation offer up the space to deeply listen to the wisdom that can only arise from a place of stillness. With acupuncture you are basically pinned to the table: There is no chance of multitasking or masking the moment. With meditation you are held by your commitment to sit on a cushion and let nothing move you until the timer goes off. Both offer glimpses of the imbalances that lead to illness, and of the habits and beliefs that lead to a more peaceful and healthy life. These are the gifts of being a connoisseur of quiet.