Beyond all the words is a place of great silence.
I recently read this sentence (or one much like it). I wish I remembered the source, but all I recall is being struck by its simple profundity. The context referred to endless talking, but my mind instantly shifted to writing.
Serious life writers, whatever form we choose, may find ourselves awash on a sea of our words. We write story after story, journal day-by-day. Words fall from fingers like autumn leaves from the tree of life.
I write, as many others do, not only to leave a legacy of personal and family history for future generations, not only to share with friends I know and haven’t yet met, but for understanding and insight. Journal entries, vignettes, essays, scribbled diagrams and mindmaps — these are all dots of understanding. Eventually dots connect into pictures, words into stories, and stories into understanding.
Until I read about the place of great silence, I assumed my words would pile up forever, and to what avail? Not even I will ever reread all the words I’ve written. So, what’s the point?
Now I see the point: to get to the place of great silence: a place of peace, beyond all the words. This place of great silence is surely the place meditators seek, the “peace that passes understanding.” I see it as a place where all the dots merge into a single source of perfect light, a place of wholeness, beyond understanding.
My word pile will continue to grow, as long as I draw breath. I love to write. Writing anchors my thoughts, stills and orders them. My words are stones on a path to understanding, but understanding is not the ultimate goal. That place of great silence, the place beyond understanding, beckons me with the promise of joyfully bright completion. I can go there right now. And come back to write again — until I’m ready to stay.
Write now: about your purpose for writing and what you hope to find beyond all the words.