Silence, a stilling of not only the voices outside but the inner voices, the roof brain chatter. Now, without the babble or words – inner and outer – I watch my mind, notice when a thought arises. I turn my attention inward, asking, "Who is thinking this thought?" As the mind turns to look, the thinker seems to disappear. But a focus comes from asking, a clearing a deepening. No "me," but a presence. Awareness.
We are all joined in the holiness of the mind that God created. I therefore never consider myself one in the silence. I'm 88 and live alone in a four room house surrounded by open space. I have no TV and have always luxuriated in silence. The exterior silence is here. The interior silence is a work in progress.