For a significant part of my life, the fundamental question for me has shifted from “How can I raise Hell” and make a lot of noise to “How Can I Find Peace?” and make room for silence. I was often afraid and angry. I think I was most afraid of me.

I wanted to change, to find peace. I  committed myself to that.

It was an enormous shift for me and one of the best, most fruitful changes ever.

I have much more work to continue but I have found peace. I can find peace alone in a room; I do it daily.

The philosopher Blaise Pascal wrote, “The unhappiness of a person resides in one thing, to be unable to remain peaceful in a room.”

When I first read this, I shook my head; it was simple. But the simplicity was pure genius.

Pascal says it all. If you doubt him, do what I did and think of everyone you know and count how many can be peaceful and alone in a room, or for that matter, are ever alone in a room when they are not asleep.

I learned this: it was only by being alone in a room that I found myself and understood what I needed to do to find peace and live the life I wanted. Inside was the safest place I had ever been or known.

I believe Pascal was right.

It was solitude and silence that brought me face-to-face with myself and the inner struggles I had to undertake and win if I was ever to become fulfilled, a truly whole human being, and at peace with myself, my life, and other people.

Silence, say the prophets, gives us the chance we need to raise our hearts and minds to something above ourselves, to be are of the spiritual life that lives deeply in all of us and that is being starved by greed, anger, violence, the din of noise and information pollution, the rail of sad and awful news, the bitter divisions all around us, and our limitless desires and need and ambitions.

Joan Chittister calls silence a call to the Cave of the Heart, where the vision is clear, and our hearts are finally centered on something worthy of us.

In silence, I chose to change, be authentic, do good, share color and light with other people, and love myself so that others could love me in return.

People often confuse spirituality with surrender and helplessness. For me, it is just the opposite. It is about finding my strength and truth in a world of people telling me what to do and who to be. There is peace in knowing who you are.

Many things in my life deserve to be loved and nourished for their own sake – writing, photography, my marriage, my blog, my farm, and the animals here. Art is essential to me, as are reading, music, nature, and donkeys and dogs.

But spiritual geniuses like Merton, St. Augustine, Merton,  Chittister, and Thich Nhat Hanh have each taught me the importance of finding silence to pursue the greatest gift of them all, the power of the contemplative vision, something that can only be seen in quiet and solitude.

Some find God in silence; others find nature, the wind, love, or good works. We each have our visitation of God.

In my life, I found that silence was the beginning of peace, and I will never stop trusting it and seeking it.

Stability has helped me see the world’s glory and the peace in the most critical place – inside of me. Maria and I share silence every day with one another and when apart. This binds us in yet another way.

I could never find peace while seeking the answers of others or arguing with people, or in anger and fear. Going inside – to myself to see the width, depth, and pain of the war inside myself, overcoming the fear of silence and solitude were the obstacles. I learned that noise protected me from nothing but myself.

Silence spoke the language of the heart and the soul. I’m not done yet.

I’ll never be done.