By Sara Maitland
The significantly acclaimed memoir of a look for silence that completed a shock luck a lot noisier than its subject...
After a loud upbringing as one among six young children, and maturity as a vocal feminist and mom, Sara Maitland started to crave silence. over the last 5 years, she has spent classes of silence within the Sinai desolate tract, the Australian bush, and the Isle of Skye. She interweaves those reviews with the historical past of silence via fairy-tale and fable, Western and jap non secular traditions, the Enlightenment and psychoanalysis, as much as the ambivalence in the direction of silence in modern society. Maitland has equipped a hermitage on an remoted Scottish moor, and the booklet culminates powerfully along with her stories of silence during this new domestic.
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Extra info for A Book of Silence: A Journey in Search of the Pleasures and Powers of Silence
When it continued to follow me, I infused many stones with the long mantra of the Unstoppable Fine Vajra, then threw them at the wind. At that moment, someone appeared that I didn’t recognize as either a man or a woman. It sang this song: Yé! Yé! Yé! Listen here, you brainless little boy! I am truly your divine guardian. Don’t go elsewhere — Stay here and lead your uncle’s homestead! You will direct the farmwork And become the chief of many people. Reciting rough, wrathful mantras is wrong — It’s possible they will become your own executioner!
All water flowed as lakes and surging rivers of blood, with bubbles the size of yak-hair tents carrying the corpses of humans, horses, tigers, leopards, bears, brown bears, and other beings. The bubbles were filled with these creatures’ dead bodies. The resonance of the four elements and the clamor of living beings reverberated as “Phat! Pem! Kill! ” making a din like the roar of a thousand dragons. I saw all appearing forms as male and female wrathful deities who hoisted aloft innumerable weapons, and hordes of black men and women launching magical weapon wheels.
She held my fingers and led me away. When we arrived in a city of nonhuman dakinis, I saw absolutely every kind of male and female daka and dakini gathered there like at a marketplace. In their midst loomed a canopy of rainbow light. Within an arc of fine vajras sat the wisdom form of the supreme master Orgyen as if he were a painting, wearing a full set of his customary regalia. He was teaching the definite secret supreme approach to the dakini assembly. I respectfully bowed before him. The moment I touched his feet, he smiled, placed his right hand upon my head and prayed, “My child, at this very moment may nonconceptual wisdom, the enlightened mindstream of the victors and their spiritual heirs of the three times, shift to your mind.