Words (or lack thereof)

Speaking is a powerful ability. In particular, speaking well, in a democratic society, is a valuable gift. Everyday we use words to communicate, persuade, connect with others. Being able to speak binds us together, or tears us apart. One who is able to speak well can reveal who they are inside, or pretend to be someone they aren’t.

I just finished a book called “The Way of the Heart” by Henri Nouwen. This modest composition of literature reveals the wisdom of the desert fathers, the original monks. Nouwen demonstrates the principles of the lifestyle that they lead, and shows us what we can learn from it in return. He suggests that there is a better way through the maelstrom of daily life, particularly in the world of christian ministry, through a lifestyle made more complete with a new definition of Silence, Solitude, and Prayer.

I had a hard time with what this book was attempting to grasp, as it suggests a lifestyle filled with less, so to speak. The Desert Fathers were extremely disciplined in the way that they sought silence, solitude, and prayer, devoting themselves fully to encountering God. The result of their discipline is clear from anecdotes of many travelers interacting with these desert fathers. Something changed within these people from their deep experiences in silence.

So in a society where words are highly valued, we seem to sometimes be seeking to say and hear as much as possible. We crave input, we’re ravenous in our hunger for it, and now in this day and age more than ever. We’re surrounded by walls of sound, and it is the subtle things, the beautiful things, that get drowned out in all the harsh whitewater noise.

I want to swim to the surface, and breath in fresh air. I want to be hungry for that sort of experience.

And as I’m writing an entire album worth of lyrics, lyrics I hope have profound meaning for people who will soon listen to our work, I want to rediscover the power of words.