沉默的决心　The Resolution of Silence

All men should strive To learn before they die What they are running from, and to, and why.

～James Thurber

When my kids were young, we'd play a game on long car trips called the“no talking game”. Who could stay quiet for the longest time?None of us were very successful and quickly someone would innocently ask，“Where are the Fruit Roll-Ups?”or“Who took my shoe?”and the game was over.So when I resolved to stay quiet for ten days on a silent yoga retreat, I was apprehensive to say the least.

When I arrived at the Meditation Center, the woman at the front desk spoke softly.“Welcome and you do not have to worry about silence until later this evening.”I was relieved that I would not have to use hand gestures to get oriented, as I'd never left my husband and three children, my psychotherapy practice, or my e-mail for ten days. She handed me my room key wrapped in a black cord.As I opened the door to my room, I wondered what doors would also be opened by silence.

The first evening our small group met with our yoga master. We sat on mats in a warm room with beautiful music and sipped sweet tea.Our daily schedule was printed out, each day like the next，6：00 A.M.-morning meditation, breakfast, morning session, lunch, afternoon session, dinner, evening session，10：00 EM.-go to bed.

I felt like a child at a camp. I wasn't sure I was going to enjoy.The evening ended with a discussion about how our daily conversations can often be distractions from honest conversations with ourselves.Quiet allows our inner voice to be heard.We were expected to be silent during the day and only speak if absolutely necessary.I wasn't sure what was defined as“absolutely necessary”，so I spoke up.“Excuse me, but I usually go running every morning.Would that be possible?”“Oh no，”my master answered.“What do you run from?”This was not going to be a fun camp.Silence was one thing, but I had made no running resolutions.

Our first morning meditation was before sunrise-learning to walk slowly four times around the garden pond, a little different than my four-mile run. As we nodded hello under a moonlit sky, it was a relief not to make idle conversation.We breathed slowly, white wisps of cool air.We were taught to focus on our feet-heel to toe, heel to toe.I soon learned that silently repeating“heal, soul, heal, soul”was calming.The silence spun a melody that we actually didn't want to interrupt with conversation.

Our days continued. We held yoga poses much longer than one could imagine.We did intensive exercises to strengthen ourselves, carrying us deeper into the cradle of our souls.Often all of us flew into our heads, wondering if the Caribbean might have been a better destination.But we learned true beauty lay so near, with no need for a passport.It is the small part within us that is actually huge, holding the“soul-er”power which guides us in all our life decisions.

In our silence, we tried to make sense of unhealthy patterns in our lives. My back and shoulder pain was an important metaphor.Unfortunately, I've always carried a small invisible whip-always pushing myself.I was raised in a New York suburb where we stood on tiptoes reaching for wealth, achievement and beauty.I thought about the pace of my life back home, where my husband and I worked long hours, took care of three children, a bounding puppy, and a spacious home.We prospered from having space in our home, yet felt deprived by no space in our lives.I drank in the simplicity of my retreat, filled by the emptiness of my appointment book.

Our small group shared a table in the dining hall. Always in silence, we were encouraged to eat mindfully, chewing our food thirty times before we swallowed.It wasn't easy and I often took bigger bites of tofu to be able to go the distance.We were the only silent table, and with each passing day the voices around us seemed louder and louder.Although everyone was speaking English, it sounded foreign and so fast-paced.

We could break our silence to check in with our real lives. So midweek the mother pull had me call home to hear about my daughter's new braces, and my son's report on the latest Denver Bronco victory.The frustration of cell phone reception was a gentle reminder of the challenge of bridging these two worlds.I shared with my husband my musings about a simpler life, a smaller home, a smaller caseload, yet a larger space for passion and creativity.I struggled, feeling homesick for family and my own pillow, and homesick for what lay deeper inside me as I questioned how I wanted to live my next fifty years.

It was one of the last afternoons when the gentle teacher asked，“You want to try running now?”I was both happy and scared. The challenge was“running”without“running away”.

So under an Arizona blue sky I began a meditative run repeating，“heal, soul, heal, soul，”as I had every morning. I learned much during that run.Remember to breathe.When you hit an uphill climb, lean into it and just keep going.Sometimes it is easier to go around a bush than to try plowing through.Don't make the journey more difficult；take the pebbles out of your shoes.Don't look too far ahead；you can lose your footing in the present.And as I jogged toward my room, I was reminded that in the end we all return to where we started.I had small blisters on my toes, which I learned was because my skin had softened in the contemplative desert air.My whole being had become more sensitive and open.

Our speaking began with our goodbyes as we all faced the challenge of bringing our quiet peace back to our red light/green light world and the loud music of our lives. We'd discovered a beautiful energy that felt like slippery soap in a morning shower-sweet smelling, but a challenge to hold.

My ten-day resolution of silence in a faraway desert was a beautiful version of the“silent game”and I returned home committed to driving my destiny versus driving myself. We decided to sell our home, and move a block away to a lovely yet simpler home.At first the children screamed and slammed doors but they have since forgiven us.

My husband and I work less and I spend more time writing. My husband finds peace as he tends his blossoming garden.I make time between patients to go to a daily yoga class.I dress more casually these days, cotton pants and light sweaters just so I don't have to change before and after class-my seams holding the quiet throughout the day.I drink more sweet tea than coffee, listen to quiet tunes that often compete with loud beats of teenage music behind bedroom doors.

Thus it is the bringing together of the East and the West, reconciling the junior prom limousine with the hybrid ways in the same family. When the children were young, evenings would get so wild, I'd scream something maternal like，“Can you guys just be quiet, so I can hear myself think！”How grateful I am that finally I was the one that took the time to stop talking long enough to hear.

～Priscilla Dann-Courtney

所有人在死前都得努力追问自己从何而来，所去何往以及缘何而往。

——詹姆斯·瑟伯

我家孩子还小的时候，我们开车长途旅行时会玩一种游戏，叫“沉默游戏”。谁能坚持不说话？我们玩得都不够好，因为很快就会有人下意识地问道：“水果卷糖在哪里？”或者“谁拿了我的鞋？”游戏就此结束。所以，当我下定决心接受十天的禁言瑜伽训练时，不夸张地讲，内心着实忧虑不安。

我到达训练中心时，前台的女接待员温柔地说道：“欢迎光临，您不用太担心不能说话的事，要到晚上才开始呢。”我这才放下心中的石头，不用靠手势来熟悉环境了，因为我从来没有离开丈夫和三个孩子十天之久，也没有长达十天都不给别人进行心理治疗，或者收发电子邮件。接待员把房门钥匙交给我，钥匙用黑色细绳牢牢地系着。当我打开房门时，我在想沉默又能打开什么样的门呢？

第一天晚上，我们小组成员和瑜伽老师见了面。我们都坐在瑜伽垫上，抿着香甜的茶。房间很温暖，还放着悦耳的音乐。日程安排已经打印出来，每天都差不多，从早上六点开始，清晨冥想，吃早饭，上午训练，吃午饭，下午训练，吃晚饭，晚间训练，一直到晚上十点结束，然后上床睡觉。

在训练营里，我感觉自己像个小孩，不知道能不能体会到快乐。第一天晚上的最后，大家讨论了日常闲聊会如何扼杀内心真实的想法。沉默可以让我们听见内心的声音。这些天我们都得保持沉默，除非到万不得已的时候。我不知道什么叫“万不得已”，所以我开口了：“不好意思，每天早上我常常要去跑步，在这里可以吗？”“噢，不行，”老师回答道，“你从哪里开始跑？”这里可不是什么快乐大本营。保持沉默是件重要的事情，我可没立下跑步的决心呀！

太阳还没升起时，我们就开始了第一天的清晨冥想——学会绕着花园池塘缓缓走上四圈。这和我每天四英里的晨跑大为不同。天空中的月亮仍未落下，我们互相点头示意。不用说那些陈词滥调的客套话真是轻松惬意。我们慢慢调整呼吸，呼出白色的水汽。老师教导我们要注意自己的脚——脚跟到脚趾，脚跟到脚趾。我很快就学会在心里反复默念“治愈，心灵，治愈，心灵”，这一招还真能让人平静。沉默就像旋转飘扬的旋律，大家都不想冒冒失失地开口说话，生怕打扰这片宁静。

接下来的日子里我们继续训练。我们保持瑜伽姿势的时间更久了，甚至超出了别人的想象。我们加强训练力度，进一步强化自己，更贴近内心真实的想法。我们常常会想，加勒比海会不会是最佳目的地。但现在我们明白了，真正的美丽就在身边，根本无须靠护照来实现。虽然这一点内心的发现看似微不足道，实则意义重大，因为这包含了“心灵”的力量，可以为生活中的各种决定指引方向。

在沉寂的训练中，我们努力想搞清楚不健康的生活方式。我的背部和肩膀经常酸痛，这就是个很好的例子。不幸的是，我总是背负着一条隐形的小鞭子，它无时无刻不在抽打着我，逼迫我前进。我在纽约郊区的家庭中长大，所以竭尽全力想过上富有的生活，获得成就和美貌。我想起了在家时的生活节奏，我和丈夫每天工作很久，得照顾三个孩子、一只调皮的小狗，还得顾着宽敞的屋子。看着自家房子那么大，我们确实很自豪，但是却因为内心的空虚而尤感失落。我全身心沉浸在简单的瑜伽训练中，空空荡荡的记事本让我心满意足。

在饭厅时，我们小组围坐在一张桌子旁。大家都一言不发，老师鼓励我们细嚼慢咽地吃饭，下咽之前先嚼上30遍。这对我来说可不简单，因为哪怕吃豆腐，我也会吞下一大口，像完成任务似的。吃饭时只有我们这一桌鸦雀无声。一天天过去了，四周的说话声似乎越来越响。虽然其他人都在说英语，但听上去就像说外语，而且感觉语速很快。

我们完全可以打破沉默，回归现实生活。一星期过了一半时，母性的本能促使我打电话回家，听女儿说戴新牙箍的情况，听儿子告诉我丹佛野马队28取得了胜利。手机信号不太好，这也暗示着想要让我的世界和家人的世界的沟通不太顺当。我告诉丈夫，自己苦思冥想，想过上更简单的生活，住更小的房子，少接点病人，这样才能有更多的激情和创造力。我努力适应这里的生活，十分想念家人和自己的枕头。当我扪心自问，接下来50年要过怎样的生活时，尤其渴望实现内心更深处的梦想。

训练已经接近尾声，有一天下午，温柔的瑜伽老师问道：“你们现在想跑步吗？”我又开心又害怕。面前的挑战是“跑步”却不能“跑走”。

所以，在亚利桑那州的蓝天下，我开始了冥想式的跑步，“治愈，心灵，治愈，心灵”，就像之前每天早上做的那样。我在跑步中学到了很多。要记得调整呼吸。如果碰上了上坡路，脚紧紧踩着路面，坚持向上走。有时候，绕过一簇灌木丛比穿过去容易许多。别把整个路程弄得太难，甩掉跑进鞋里的碎石子。别朝太远的地方张望，因为会乱了脚步。当我慢跑向自己的房间时，有人提醒我最后大家都得回到出发的地方。我的脚趾磨出了小水泡，我知道这是因为在沉思冥想的氛围里，我的肌肤更加柔弱了。我整个人都变得更加敏感，更加开放。

最后，我们互相告别，又张口说话了。我们面临的难题是如何把宁静的心灵带回灯红酒绿、莺歌燕舞的生活。我发现了很棒的动力，但就像早晨洗澡时滑溜溜的香皂一样——闻起来很好，想要牢牢抓住却很难。

在遥远的“与世隔绝的地方”，我立下了十天禁言的决心，这就好比“沉默游戏”美丽的翻版。回到家后，我坚定信心，要掌管自己的命运，而不是给自己太大压力。我们决定卖掉房子，搬进一个街区外虽小但是很可爱的房子。一开始，孩子大吵大闹，甚至用力砸门，但如今已经原谅我们了。

我和丈夫不再花那么多时间在工作上，而是花更多时间在写作上。丈夫悉心照料花园的花朵，也找到了内心的宁静。每天我接待病人的间隙，也会抽空去上瑜伽课。我穿着更随意了，腿上穿棉质长裤，身上套着薄毛衣，这样的话，瑜伽课前后都不用换衣服。瑜伽课就像针线穿插在生活之中，帮助我保持内心的宁静。我开始喝甜茶，而不怎么喝咖啡了；开始听安静的音乐，和孩子房里传来的聒噪的年轻人的音乐形成了鲜明的对比。

所以，这融合了东西方的文化，并且在同一个家庭内实现了雅俗共赏。孩子小的时候在晚上总是很疯，作为母亲我总会喊道：“你们这些家伙能不能安静一下，我都无法思考了！”如今，我终于可以少说话、多倾听，真是值得庆幸。

——普里西拉·丹恩·考特尼