I was in a quiet open space. There was a man facing me. He felt familiar, wiser, someone I trusted instinctively. He asked if I wanted him to teach me about silence. I must have agreed, because he leaned towards me and gently pressed his lips to mine. As he did, I heard the roaring of the ocean. It seemed to fill my entire body.
The sound was moving out of my mind, through my mouth, and he was taking it from me. Soon there was silence so profound it was like a vacuum, pulling me into it. It wasn't an emptiness, a hollow feeling:
it had the volume of space and it spoke loudly to my soul. I felt totally humbled, and understood I'd just been given a glimpse of the vast possibilities and knowledge and wonder that I had never yet imagined. My walls of understanding were shattered and I marveled at how wrong I'd always been. For I'd come to understand through this experience that the roaring was coming from inside my own head, and had been there so long that I'd forgotten that this white noise—ever present, subconsciously underlining all thought—wasn't silence. When I woke, I had tears on my cheeks and a feeling of reverential awe. It has been many years since that dream, and it still rings in my memory, surrounded by light and a profound feeling of importance.
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