I believe in silence. I believe that it is becoming more and more unusual to find each day. Raucous music devices, cacophonous rabble, and vociferous chatter and quarrel is converting silence into a boisterous stereo system.

Noise is flourishing into so many distractions nowadays that true and absolute silence is growing hard to come across. And I believe can only be encountered when you are alone, perhaps not physically but mentally. Alone in spirit. Yet we are so unaccustomed to silence that we find solitude to be awkward, uncomfortable, and sometimes even unbearable. I believe there is a secret garden of silence where we can escape from all the noise, all the distractions, and just be ourselves and allow ourselves to imagine. Where we can enjoy the presence of being, rather than the harsh words and sounds that have replaced it.

I have found my silent garden, my shangrila. It occurs around six in the afternoon at the porch outside my house. Sometimes I watch the sun getting ready to sleep, sometimes I watch it when it’s wide awake, and I stare at one thing for a really long time, especially the creepy tree across the street, and I think. The rusty wheels of imagination in my mind begin to spin, powering thoughts that build a bridge that takes me from reality to a place where I am free to think and imagine whatever I want. Once, while focusing on a little snail on the ground, I thought of the most ridiculous thing: can I call footnotes feetnote? Here, in this thinking world, I can replay my memories like a filmstrip. Silence liberates me; my secret garden is where it is honored and respected.

Silence can do many things for you. With silence, you are free to think anything you please, from harmless little lies to atrocious opinions. In silence your thoughts are private. No distractions exist in silence, only freedom. Silence is like a little cog in a machine. It is important no matter how insignificant it seems. I believe that without silence the machine, the world, will not function properly.