A SILENCE THAT SPEAKS
The All-Embracing Unification of Space and Mind
(with sound meditation in 3 parts)
by
David Chaim Smith
“Music is the healing force of the universe”
Albert Ayler
“There is no such thing as silence”
John Cage
A SILENCE THAT SPEAKS
The All-Embracing Unification of Space and Mind
(with sound meditation in 3 parts)
by
David Chaim Smith
“Music is the healing force of the universe”
Albert Ayler
“There is no such thing as silence”
John Cage
For a listener music can become a profound mystical practice. Ordinarily, it seems as though sounds
are projected in external space and perceived in internal space, as if through a permeable barrier.
What then is space itself?
Both sound and perception are expressions of energy. Music can be the ecstatic experience of their
union within the energetic continuum. It is an invitation to merge outer and inner within each
other, to swallow each other, leaving only the vital field of possibility which defies fragmentation.
The continuum of energy is like the serpent in the Garden of Eden. Its undulating body is an endless primordial waveform; the unifying seal of all contrasts: up/down, negative/positive, on/off,
active/passive. This is the raw voltage of transformation. The whole of space explodes with its wild
capacity for adaptation. It manifests all energetic frequencies as well as the capacity to experience
them.
Sound and hearing are mutually interdependent. Neither has independent existence, but both arise
to reflect the uniqueness of the other. Sound hears itself through human ears as both express one all-
embracing field of creativity. Understanding this is the doorway to a primordial ocean of dynamic
space in continual variation.
Music, like all great artforms, has the capacity to point to the absolute within itself. First it must
become clear how the perceptual fragmentation of the world comes about. To observe this just follow
the conventional cognitive sequence:
Sounds arise in what seems like ‘outer’ space and are apprehended in what seems like ‘inner’ space.
The barrier between them is the appearance of the body and its egoic sense of self.
The two sides are taken to be separate, and are reified by their differences which appear through a
confrontation with each other.
The equalizing aspect of space in which all distinctions are made is almost always conventionally
ignored. Does it oppose either inner or outer? Can space be broken in two? And what about space
itself and its silent origins? Have either sounds or perceptions been ripped away from the pristine
womb of silence which they appear to have arisen from?
The problem is even more basic when we consider the silence. When we believe that ‘something’
has been belched forth from ‘nothingness’ there is a conflict. This is the basis of all of the dualistic
habits that insidiously fragment the world into infinite unrelated pieces, obstructing any chance of
apprehending the cohesive wholeness which is the goal of spiritual practice and human evolution.
What results from this process is the familiar randomness of the cognitive status quo: the ceaseless
conflict between inner and outer in which the senses present foreign objects to a self-identified subject
to grasp at. Ironically, this situation even persists on a totally internal level, as mental objects
called thoughts and feelings confront the awareness that perceives them.
Division only leads to more divisions. Sounds are ripped from silence. Listener is pitted against the
music. Created things are defined and categorized out from undifferentiated creativity.
Fragmentation occurs as mind moves. Like music, perception is a state of motion. Disruption
comes through the mind’s habits of temporal reduction and isolation. These habits interpret all
motion (including its own) as a series of boundaries; bits of time that come and go. Reliance on
time is a symptom that the mind has given itself over to dualistic fixation. All we can see within it
are unresolved questions. To and from where do the pieces of time go? What is the moment that
goes? No one can experience future or past directly, so why do we think they exist? The ‘present’
keeps presenting itself, but try to examine it. If you do it will be gone, and another present moment
will have taken its place.
However as Albert Ayler suggested, music can be a remedy for this disease. It can be a way of repairing a shattered conception of reality. Through meditative absorption, music can be liberated beyond
the confines of time and constraint. It can break free of temporal measurement while simultaneously moving as open space. Space is always free of containment, and music becomes its prayer when
its heart is exposed. This is the offering feast which continually consumes itself. Sounds arise and
dissolve, freely giving their life blood to and from the energized space that they truly are. In this
manner both sense and sense-object obliterate each other while simultaneously living through each
other. The energized space of creativity is the offering, offerer, and that to which the offering is dedicated.
It is the essence of the equation:
SPACE=MIND
The apparitional playground arises through awareness. Space-as-mind is the becoming of anything
and everything. Its vastness is all phenomena. There is nowhere it is not, and it always creates. This
leads to the realization that there really is no such thing as ‘ordinary’ phenomena. All phenomena is
miraculous. The sublime cannot be diminished, only ignored. It is the job of both the artist and the
witness of art to take responsibility for living this equation through.
When space degenerates through conventional reductionistic thinking it manufactures the so-called
objective outer world of ‘reality’. When mind degenerates through conventional reductionistic
thinking it manufactures the subjective means to know it called the ‘individual’. If we believe these
fictions actually exist, then we must believe they are separate. If we challenge these assumption then
both aspects can reflect what theists call ‘god’. It can only happen by changing one’s mental view.
Any investigation of the divine is a mental operation. If the equation mind=space is acceptable, then
we can consider that mind is not the biological byproduct of the nervous system nor is it the property
of an individual human life. Mind is the living conscious dynamism of creativity. In this sense
god/space/mind are all equal. This equality is the basis of all inquiry as well as that which is
inquired about; both goal and method of epistemological and ontological study. This view is evident
in many of the works of kabbalah and hermeticism, evident in the following quote:
“Mind has not been cut off from god’s essentiality; it has expanded like the light of the sun.”
(Corpus Hermeticum 12)
And now we can proceed with a more specific formula to our purposes:
SOUND=AWARENESS
With this formula as a base we can begin to train ourselves to swallow music and be swallowed by
it. Recordings can be used with great success to refine this facility in its most subtle aspects. I will
give three exercises in which this can be attempted, as well as recommendations for specific record-
ings that yield good results. Of course the selection of music is open, and my recommendations are
merely suggestions. Once you get the idea from my descriptions you will know how the exercises
can be applied to any piece that even roughly fits the model.
1. Cultivating an integrated sense of receptivity
This first meditation involves binding the mind with silent space as minute sonic elements arise and
dissolve within it. The aim is to hold the sense of vast openness without the elements obstructing or
obscuring its quality of spaciousness. When no sound causes disruption, equanimity can be recognized between sounds and silence.
A piece I like to use for this exercise is Margaret Leng Tan’s solo performance of John Cage’s “Music
for piano #2” (from ‘Daughters of the Lonesome Isle’, new albion). In this piece, as in his later
‘number pieces’, Cage allows the open space in which sounds arise to be a central concern. The
sonic elements enter and exit with extreme delicacy, highlighting the pristine purity of the openness
of space which seems to engulf them. It is a quiet expectant scenario, in which piano sounds bloom
without seeming either related or unrelated. They simply assert themselves in their variety, passing
into and out of focus, without the intervention of any intrusive compositional structure.
We begin by sharpening attention while relaxing it at the same time. Simply listen, and let the
sounds be. This involves developing a disposition of simultaneous receptivity and concentration.
Concentration that is ‘too tight’ makes experience rigid. It freezes the barrier between sound and
hearing, and blocks their dissolution together. It will always be distracted. Contrarily, if the experience becomes ‘too loose’ it will be sloppy, and no profound qualities can arise within it. You will
find yourself just drifting, maybe into a semi-sleep.
The goal in all of these exercises is for the sonic field and mental activity to merge out of their separate identities. Blending attention with space requires the cultivation of the quality of expectancy;
the sense that ‘anything can happen’. This helps allow elements that might otherwise be interpreted
as intrusions or disruptions to unfold as organic extensions of the continuity of the piece. Because
this piece is so slow and quiet it will appear easier than it actually is. You will probably be far more
distracted than you realize. One reason why this particular piece is so effective is because the sounds
are almost manageable. It allows you to ‘fine tune’ your capacity for abiding in a deeply receptive
state.
Like space, mind neither mechanically accepts nor rejects sounds. They simply happen. If you can
recognize and abide in the sonic field with this natural quality then the experience will be both vivid
and vast at the same time. You may come upon a ‘razor’s edge’ of difference between the internality
of mind and the externality of sound, or between the intrusiveness of sound and voidness of space.
In all cases of distraction, remember that the nature of sound is inherent in silence and the essence
of silence is inherent in sound. This precept can help cut through distractions. You don’t necessarily
need to think about it, simply understand and feel it. Never try to push a distraction out of your
mind. Any attempt to consciously dismantle a mental construct will make it worse. Let it all pass
into the openness of the equation: mind=space.
2. Managing cognitive saturation
The second exercise involves maintaining open receptivity as a sonic overload unloads on you. The
goal, as always, is alert non-reactivity. However the challenge is to cultivate this state as a full on
barrage of sound tries its best to disrupt and interfere. A piece that is quite well suited for this is an
early one from Alvin Lucier; the “North american time capsule” (from ‘Vespers/other early works’,
new world records). It is a good solid sonic assault comprised of disparate layers of electronically
processed vocal sounds. The sounds have varying degrees of unrecognizability as vocal elements.
They transmit some of the rhythm and cadence of speech patterns, but nothing specifically coherent
as language is communicated through the opacity of the electronic treatments. The layers are collectively and individually almost impenetrable, and produce a nice disorienting wall of sensation which
is perfect for our purposes.
The first thing you might notice is that the piece encourages hyperfixation. Every detail tends to jolt
itself into focus to dominate the sonic field, resulting in distraction. What results is a jagged and
fractured field that repels conventional aesthetic sensibilities. To most people this piece will seem to
be comprised exclusively of disruptions. However as a meditative event, it is not a matter of simply
enduring a series of unpleasant reactions, like some stoic form of punishment. It is a matter of recognizing that the so-called distasteful elements are themselves inherently spacious; expressions of
pure potentiality shining and crackling with life. The vibrancy of the barrage delivers the raw
dynamism inherent within space. If you can recognize directly in the act of listening (not merely
intellectually) that the essential nature of all sonic life equalizes the most annoying sounds with pure
silence, then you have realized something rare. As a consequence, one can then be able to transcend
one’s aesthetic preoccupations. When it is engaged deeply, meditation on the nature of sound sim-
ply cuts through the habitual fascination with one’s own tastes. The accumulation of likes and dislikes
can simply be outshined, and as a result, are often altered beyond all recognition.
The goal of the exercise, as always, is to cultivate wakeful non-distraction and vivid spaciousness.
You won’t have to worry about the vividness aspect with this piece, that takes care of itself. The
struggle might be to discover a sense of space in spite of what can appear to be claustrophobia.
Simply let the sonic bombardment blossom as it will while meeting whatever resistances arise head
on. A method that might be helpful in penetrating these resistances is to try to place attention con-
stantly within the overall field of the sounds, and not in the details. This technique of ‘widening’
the sonic window takes the focus away from the disruptions as singular isolated events. It allows you
to place emphasis back on space. Only when you have the sense of overall space can you begin to
relate it to the space of your own mind, ultimately merging them beyond distinction.
This process is essentially no different from the last exercise, except for the challenges of the circumstances. Instead of minute manageable sounds that appear one at a time there is total destruction. In fact, this one is very effective done right after the last one, back to back, with no break.
3. Cultivating stability
This last exercise is probably the best one of the three to use regularly as a sound meditation practice.
It involves the cultivation of meditative stability, which is one of the long term goals of all
meditation. It is not sufficient to manufacture a series of momentary ‘oceanic experiences’ that come
and go. The goal is to abide in the unbroken continuity of being without falling back into dualistic
habits. This is the deepest and most natural response to life as it is. It is not an artificial mental trick
that is entertained and then forgotten. What we do with sounds and silence is symptomatic of what
we do with everything else. This is why sound meditations can function as genuine mystical practices
in their own right.
Many drone pieces can be used for this practice, such as those created by composers LaMonte
Young, Charlemagne Palestine, and Folke Rabe. What is required is a combination of consistency,
density, and spaciousness. A particular drone I enjoy using for this practice is a piece by Phil
Niblock called “Early Winter” (from ‘Music by Phil Niblock’, experimental intermedia foundation).
It offers a tremendous sense of depth built from multiple layers of sounds. They are comprised of
overdubs of flute, 8 tracks of bass flute, 38 samples of synth voices, and a full-on string quartet. It
seems to be both full to capacity and yet open at the same time. It is truly a drone in which the
mind can sink into oblivion. It also has a searing quality which seems to drive right through what-
ever is in its way, and ultimately what is in its way is you.
Make sure it is played very loud.
The goal is meditative absorption. This is relatively easy to understand but almost impossible to do
and sustain. It requires a vivid clarity that does not grasp on to anything, but allows everything. If
aspects of the sonic field are witnessed bit by bit, we can be sure that continuity and absorption are
not happening.
The method is to surrender completely while being alert and responsive. We are not asking the
piece to swallow us, nor we swallow the piece. We are after a simultaneous and process-less swallowing of any and all conceptual identifications. Anywhere the mind stops to notice ‘something’ a distraction
has occurred.
Because drones often appear fixed and homogenous (which they are not) we tend to react to them
as if we are confronted by a great object that has filled the sky. Even if you become engulfed by the
vastness of the object, the problem is that there is a ‘you’ to be engulfed. When both the you and
the object disappear without a trace of mechanical residue, then maybe the alchemical marriage has
begun. You will not know for sure. It is best to not think about it. It is best just to practice.