Breath animates the clay of our being. It is the lusty cry of the newborn, and the essence of wind, spirit, muse, sound...Everything "breathes." Think of the woods on a spring day, the sussuration of leaves, the rippling grasses, the trembling of dappled light.
~ from THE BOOK OF SYMBOLS, Ami Ronnberg & Kathleen Martin, eds
Essentially neuter, silence, like light or love, requires a medium to give it meaning, takes on the color of its host, adapts easily to our fears and needs. Quite apart from whether we seek or shun it, silences orchestrate the music of our days... If it's true that all symphonies end in silence, it's equally true that they begin there as well. Silence, after all, both buries and births us, and just as life without the counterweight of mortality would mean nothing, so silence alone, by offering itself as the eternal Other, makes music possible.
~ from "Listening For Silence" by Mark Slouka with thanks to Alice Spicer
