When I open my eyes in the morning, the first thing I feel is sheer disillusionment. I detect no trace of joy for the day. Within me, the faint embers of the fire of pain from the previous evening still crackle quietly. Otherwise, there’s nothing there. Only silence and foreboding are within me. Even my old friend, my inner voice, is silent. So I gradually begin to understand my situation.
I am a human being. A soul trapped in a body. Disgusted, I inhale the cool air. I feel burning eyes and pain in my bones; I am compelled to move. I am far removed from the perception of freedom. The seconds of dawning everyday life fan this fire within me anew. After just a few moments, it is burning brightly in my heart. Do I belong in this place, in this time, and is this the world in which I am supposed to feel at home? My life seems to me like an assignment, a shabby mission. I see my being with different eyes. Every thing, no matter how fine, must be nurtured and honored with attention. I respect life itself. But I avoid people. People surround themselves with destruction, noise, and stench. But the path to life can only ever be found through the perception of silence and its beguiling scents.
The scent of silence is created deep within our hearts and perceived by the mind. It revives the sense of memory, inspires the imagination, and opens our eyes to the cosmic realm of freedom. Does that make sense? No, the perception of that odorless scent has always been a sense. With all the noise and shouting every day, with all our fears and daily hardships, this important sense of silence is in danger of atrophying. We humans tend to gradually forget it and simply plan its sensations out. We love the excitement of the media, the fuss and the arguments, too much to notice how we are slowly damaging ourselves more and more. If we lose our sight, we become blind. If we lose our hearing, it is deafness that limits our lives and demands it. But if we lose the sense of perceiving the beguiling scent of silence, we will eventually no longer be able to find our way out of the noisy everyday life. We can only strive toward the light because darkness exists. If we don’t find our way out, the hustle and bustle will hold us captive, and we will long for the freedom of our memories. By that time, we will have gradually forgotten what it’s like to feel the past. These old feelings, however wonderful and annoying they may have been, will sink into the abyss of oblivion.