John Francis - The Ragged Edge of Silence: Finding Peace in a Noisy World

When I told my friends that I was going to write a book on silence, there were of course a few suggestions that I turn in a blank manuscript. I am sure this would have impressed my editor, at least as much as it could make him laugh. But in the end he would undoubtedly have asked me to write some explanatory text on top of the blank pages to help readers better understand the pages of silence.

So to satisfy my editor, myself, and a few other curious minds, I have added a few illustrations and words of explanation to the blank pages, in my small attempt to describe what is, in reality, ineffable. At most I hope to be able to point toward the experience of silence and the boundary from where our existence springsthat is, the Ragged Edge of Silence.

The Ragged Edge of Silence digs deeply into the phenomenology of silence and the practice of listening. As in Planetwalker: 22 Years of Walking, 17 Years of Silence, I followed a methodology that recognizes the importance of personal documents, explanations, and interpretations of silence. This story, then, is my personal account and interpretation of silence as I experienced it. Several of the episodes included in this book also appeared in Planetwalker.

In most instances I tell these stories for the sake of continuity and a better or deeper understanding of events that I may not have been able to illuminate in Planetwalker. Others stories are new, but they shed light on the subject of silence and listening.

This book also touches on the history of our awareness of silence as a phenomenon, a religious experience for purification, and an ontological study. It is not, however, about dissuading you from your religious beliefs or faith, nor is it written to turn you toward the religious life. Regardless of my own beliefs, which you may glean from my writings, I have written this book in the hopes that silence can be made more accessible for people of any denomination, and that you will be able to enhance your life and discover or rediscover who it is you really arein essence, to find your place on the planet.

This is an attempt to make silence more accessible to all of us, not only the spiritual or contemplative warrior, although you may find that in the process you are one or the other, or both. As you read the stories, you should come to understand that reading is another way of listening. And listening is so important, because without listening we can recognize neither silence nor each other.

To help you in your own search to find the Ragged Edge of Silence, after each chapter I have placed an exercise based on my own experience or on consultation with others. In the last exercise you will read a koan told to me by Father Robert Kennedy, who shares the distinction of being a Buddhist roshi and a Jesuit priest. Kennedy teaches ecumenical theology and Japanese at St. Peters College in Jersey City. You will also find references to the teachings of Irv Rose, who was hired by the U.S. Coast Guard to instruct a bunch of us project managers, engineers, and attorneys on how to brief the admirals on oil pollution regulations in light of the Exxon Valdez spill in Alaska.

Irv looked the same as he had 20 years earlier, except the black hair had turned to white, making him seem a bit like Patch Adams. He was still excited about communication, especially in how listening plays a big part.

You ask people who have been divorced, said Irv, and inevitably they will say their spouse didnt listen to them. So now it is a major issue, because we just dont do it; we just dont listen.

I asked Irv to give me a good exercise to teach the importance of listening..

When I was a young man it never occurred to me how important listening was. To me it was more important to talkto use words to get the things I wanted, to hide my true self from myself and others, to pretend to be the person I was not (but thought I wanted to be), for competition, telling, often shouting. As the basis for any relationship, this was poison.

When I first stopped speaking, it was a way to avoid arguments. That first step was the gift that was given to both my community and myself, as we all need the opportunity to listen and to be heard.

In college and graduate school it was listening that elevated my time from pedestrian to enlightening. I learned as much from listening to my colleagues, their questions, and their conversations as I did from the instructors and texts. It was at least an acknowledgment of the interconnectedness we share that carried through to teaching at the University of Montana, where my silence allowed students to find their own voices, and listening to them was the education I could have missed.

In communities across the country I came in silence to listen and to learn; I was welcomed into the homes of those I had not known before. As I walked, newspaper and television reporters sought me out to listen with their hearts to the story that I had to tell. Then I came upon an editor of a local Pennsylvania newspaper who explained that he wasnt interested in doing a story because, the way he saw it, all kinds of people walked, skateboarded, or some such thing through town every few weeks.