Thoughts About Silence

I was thinking....about silence....and came up with this.  I wouldn't say it's a poem--just a series of thoughts that occurred to me when I sat down in front of a blank screen...to write.



Why are we complaining about not feeling quiet when we can easily find the silence inside ourselves?

Why are we blaming everybody else when we know nobody will be able to help us find our true silence (because each individual's silence is of a different kind)?

Why does creation--a largely dynamic, fluctuating action--rely so much on being alone and silencing the buzz inside your mind?

What thought process of ours limits us to the noise of the outside world and keeps us from finding our true selves?

Noise is necessary if you want to know silence--just like you have to know what darkness is if you want to see the light--but most of us seem to think otherwise.

Why is there a common misconception that silence means stagnation and not progress or contentment?  

Are we afraid of silence?

These might appear somewhat deep, but, really, they're just thoughts....that might make a difference.

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