By Zohar Ben Simon, Science and Technology Editor
Lately I have been enjoying something I thought I never would: silence. Up until a few months ago, I hardly experienced a moment of quiet. Mundane tasks such as walking to school or cleaning my room were constantly filled with music or talking on the phone with a friend. During winter break this year, I spent my time back home in Florida, where the stark contrast to the continuous New York buzz is very apparent. The quiet was relieving, and I couldn’t remember the last time I had taken the time to sit with my own thoughts.
I reflected and tried to find the reasoning behind my own actions. How could I not know myself well enough to understand why I was filling all the silence? I couldn’t figure out whether I had been avoiding the quiet on purpose or had just gotten carried away with life, but either way, I decided to make a change.
During my first year at Stern, I lived in a lively room of 5, which constantly had conversation, music or some other background noise. This year, in a room by myself, all of the noise had suddenly stopped, and I wasn’t used to it. The quiet in my room and my life was not comfortable, so I did what anyone would do and filled it.
After I noticed all this noise, it seemed overwhelming, so I started making small changes in my life to add more quiet. The first shift I made, which I still often struggle with, is walking to school with no music. Just my thoughts, and the noise that comes with being in the city. I finally felt peaceful, and to my surprise, relieved; there was finally quiet in my head. That short 10-minute walk let me start my day off calmly, and this carried on for the whole day. I was aware of my surroundings, the weather, and even just the thoughts in my head seemed clearer. On the way back home, I followed this same routine and walked in silence. I was able to process my day and clear my head. That first night, as I went to sleep, my brain wasn’t spinning, and I felt light. Initially, I wanted to put my headphones back on and block out the silence, as if it were some unrelenting, bombarding noise. But, the more I went on with the silence, the more I enjoyed it.
I started incorporating my silent sabbatical into everything. I stopped listening to music when I studied, I didn’t put on a TV show while I folded laundry and I didn’t start a podcast while cleaning my room. I felt like I was living my life intentionally, getting rid of all the excess background noise. Now, my life feels more interesting, silence doesn’t feel empty and I have started enjoying it. My thoughts felt clearer and easier to understand.
All the noise had become a default, and I got accustomed to floating through life without processing everything. These are meant to be the best years of my young-adult life, and I was letting them pass me by. In a generation full of social media and a constant barrage of entertainment, silence is something we have forgotten to handle. It has become surprising to see someone not only be by themselves, but also truly by themselves. My experiment has not been about rejecting modernity, but realizing that I don’t need a constant form of diversion. I like to be bored; I like to have my mind focused on one thing at a time. When I am alone I don’t feel lonely, I feel peaceful.
About a month or so into this silent journey, I started bringing some noise back into my life. I could still appreciate the little things while allowing myself a distraction here and there. I will watch a show while I eat my dinner, and often put music on as I clean my room or go on a walk. But my confidence in myself has grown now that I do not need to rely on these things. Liveliness is always exciting, but when it is removed, rediscovering solitude is just as enjoyable.
Photo Credit: Courtesy of Zohar Ben Simon