I once went to a place in Guimaras, a beautiful island in the Philippines. I’ve been to many places, but in that place, there was a different kind of silence…a silence you could almost hear. Perhaps it’s because of the lack of electricity in the area. Perhaps it’s the absence of internet connections. But in that place, silence is more than the absence of sound. It was a kind of silence you can feel, a silence whose presence touches you and changes you. It as that kind that I could never forget.
Here is an actual excerpt from my diary:
At Himala, Barangay Sibunag, we witnessed a spectacular sunset. (I was glad we captured it on film). I was glad I didn’t miss the silhouette of the tree set apart from the rest, somewhat bowing to the left with branches surrendering to the glaring orange sky.
Indeed, the peace of the place, especially upon arriving at Barangay Sebaste was striking. No loud stereos, no television sets?—?just the soft rusting of leaves and the sweet chirping of birds now and then.
They say that silence is not the same as peace, and I agree, but sometimes, we need a certain silence to understand again what peace was like. Silence helps us listen deeper. It opens not only our ears, but our hearts.
“We sit silently and watch the world around us. This has taken a lifetime to learn. It seems only the old are able to sit next to one another and not say anything and still feel content. The young, brash and impatient, must always break the silence. It is a waste, for silence is pure. Silence is holy. It draws people together because only those who are comfortable with each other can sit without speaking. This is the great paradox.”? Nicholas Sparks, The Notebook
The thing about hope is that it’s a positive force that shines the most when it’s dark. When everything’s going well, we hardly notice it’s there. But when things go against us, when our dreams fade and when we see no immediate reprieve from our troubles, that’s when hope does its best work for us.
"Where Hope Can Be Found"