|
|
RESOURCES
Resources: Newsletter | Links | Fact Sheets | Press Releases
 The
Death of Stillness: The Price We Pay for Losing our Private Peace
by Richard Mahler
Whatever the question, "busy" is the answer.
How are you?
"Busy."
How's work? "Busy."
How's the family?
"Busy."
We hear it again and again, all day long. But you can't fool me. "Busy"
is more than a buzzword. It's shorthand for, "My schedule is a nightmare,
my phone won't stop ringing, and my e-mail box is overflowing. I have
a mile-long list of obligations to my spouse, boss, kids, friends, pets,
car, and houseplants. I'm so swamped that I can't afford to give you more
than a one-word answer." What's wrong with being busy? Plenty. Americans
have become the most anxious, time-stressed people in the world, thanks
in part to all the high-tech devices at our fingertips that are meant
to make life easier. The white noise of trivia and the thrill of consumption
fill our heads and guide our behaviors.
Are we happy about it? Probably not. We're much too busy to be happy.
It's no coincidence that "busyness" is only one letter away
from "business." Workaholism-reflected in near-constant, often
job-related activity-might be the last socially sanctioned addiction in
North America. Within the last 20 years, we've backed away from heavy
smoking, hard drinking, and recreational sex as permissible indulgences,
yet working our fingers to the bone-and our brains to jelly-is still perfectly
okay. In fact, it's given approval at every turn.
Walk into any airport these days and you're surrounded by people at work:
on the phone, at the keyboard, in the briefcase. Hotels (and even budget
motels) are in cutthroat competition to see who can offer travelers the
greatest number of work-related amenities, such as high-speed Internet
access, fax machines, office-style desks, and overnight courier services.
Sit down at a restaurant, drive down an interstate, ride a commuter train,
or take a walk: half the folks around you are lost to a cellular or a
laptop.
What's missing? The three things many of us long for: silence, stillness,
and solitude. The mechanical clamor of the Industrial Revolution and the
electronic beep of the Information Age have obliterated the soothing quiet
that once embraced us. Unnatural sound has invaded virtually all of our
public spaces, including otherwise pristine national parks. In 1998, wilderness
sound recordist Gordon Hempton toured 15 states and found only two areas-remote
parts of Colorado and Minnesota-that were free of sounds made by motors,
airplanes, guns, and other human-operated devices for more than 15 minutes
during daylight hours.
Noise is everywhere once we walk out the door, but somehow we also feel
compelled to introduce it to our inner-sanctums: flicking on TV sets,
computers, or stereos; playing back answering machines; encouraging our
children to play video games; and installing gadgets in every room of
the house. As columnist Anna Quindlen notes, the static in the collective
national psyche "threatens to drown out the small voices of cosmic
questioning or contentment."
Lost from our daily routine is time alone to simply abide peacefully
with ourselves. Yet this is where we often touch the fullness of our possibilities,
waking up to the cause and effect of our lives. Indeed, moments of solitude
allow us to consider the meaning of life itself. The sanctuary of stillness
and silence also provides a serene escape that helps protect our health
and restore our equilibrium. 
Both clinical research and personal experience confirm that self-reflection
is a valuable tool for reducing stress, expanding insight, and increasing
happiness. The benefits of devoting even ten quiet minutes a day to ourselves
include mental clarity, greater efficiency, and a sense of well-being.
The negative consequences of constant interaction are obvious. We get
irritable and short-tempered, restless and tired, without seeming to know
why. Silence is accessible to each of us and costs nothing. Stillness
is as soothing as a bubble bath, as illuminating as a bright idea, and
as thrilling as a new romance. Solitude allows us, as 19th-century writer
Henry David Thoreau observed at Walden Pond, to "be completely true
to ourselves." The ability to mold a healthful and life-affirming
environment remains within our grasp, even though human-made sound and
activity continue to encroach on public and private space. And as we continue
filling the world with distractions, often unbidden, we will keep craving
the serenity that inevitably shrinks with their arrival.
from THE CENTER
FOR A NEW AMERICAN DREAM'S
SYNDICATED COLUMN SERVICE
Consumption · Quality of Life · Environment · Values
Richard Mahler is a freelance writer in Santa Fe, NM. His book, Stillness:
Daily Gifts of Solitude is about the steady loss of silence, solitude,
and simplicity in modern life, and why overscheduled Americans need them
back.
This article is distributed courtesy of the Center for a New American
Dream.
For more information, visit www.newdream.org.
|
