Silence can feel like a sensory bath.

It started out of pure frustration. A day that had tested me to what felt like my limit, a mind reeling with all the things left undone, difficult conversations to be had, dreams deferred, the torment of uncertainty, and and and. As I stepped into my car and turned on the ignition, the afternoon drive show’s host sounded like the shrill screech of a drill bit being forced into an impenetrable surface. Her words jumbled into the sonic equivalent of being suffocated by the overwhelming and cacophonous voices already fighting for space in my head. In that moment, I had to switch off the car radio to stop the drilling. The sounds coming at me from the car radio were not a nifty distraction in this moment, but a loud chorus from a loudhailer that threatened the fragile state I was in.

The 30 minutes and 40 kilometres along the M1 and N1 highways that followed slowly ushered in calm, lowering the voices that had been fighting for their moment at the podium of my mind, to a whisper at first and then to nothing. Suddenly, a moment of panic was de-escalated by tuning out further distractions. Surrendering to complete silence had allowed me to turn down the volume without even trying. That single drive changed the way I commute. Now, silent drives are an essential part of my daily and weekly routine, not just in times of high stress or overwhelm, but as a key ingredient I need to stay sane. Initially, I did think of the exercise as ‘serial killer stuff’. Who can actively avoid distraction for that long and not succumb to the internal chaos they are trying to evade? Me is who.

Getting rid of music, podcasts, audiobooks, etc. can also be a meditative experience, which is ideal if you’re heading to a stressful event, or if you just need to quickly reconnect with yourself. As you drive, you can take in the scenery, enjoy a few deep breaths, or play grounding games to feel fully present — all things that are tough to do with Top 40 Hits blaring in the background.

Carolyn Steber

I didn’t even consider it a mindfulness hack until I saw a creator I follow on TikTok talk about it a few months ago. She said we are wearing our minds thin with constant stimulation, much of which we cannot process at all because of the sheer volume of inputs coming at us all day. Being silent for even 10 minutes can help you step away from the noise of the day, reduce stress and improve overall creativity. Trying to decompress with other people’s thoughts and feelings coming at you isn’t conducive to stillness and/or calming your nervous system. Even something as innocuous as listening to your favourite musician belt out their latest songs can work against this practice. Our brains don’t really know the difference between lyrics, our internalised thoughts and reality, so singing along to narratives that contradict who we are or want to be, can in fact, assist in creating an unintended reality. This has been the most difficult part of practising stillness for me, because I quite exclusively listen to ‘sad girl’ music. And don’t get me wrong, I still do, I just don’t belt out the parts that I used to identify with and say out loud that I am not the “I” being referred to. Silly, maybe, but necessary for me.

Some of the things I do in silence now include workouts at the gym, working, writing, walking, and sometimes instituting ‘no-talk time’ with loved ones. The latter is one of my favourite ways to use silence, just being near someone I love, in quiet contemplation is an act of intimacy I relish. The quiet I have embraced in my life allows me to look around more, take in my environment more fully and sometimes more meaningfully. It has also meant that I process thoughts and ideas more slowly and thoughtfully, and I am less hurried to arrive at decisions and subsequent action. I know it can be difficult to contend with having nothing but your thoughts staring back at you, but for me, this practice has meant that a once daunting task, which I actively wanted to drown out, is now something I crave and even need.