Holding Nothing with Elena Brower
Holding Nothing with Elena Brower
quiet sanctuary
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quiet sanctuary

A month of silences.

Today, introducing a month of quiet practices with guest teachers and me, along with invitations to celebrate my 54th birthday.

First, a review of Softening Time (now 40% off):

Each verse, each line, feels like a whispered revelation, gently guiding us towards a deeper understanding of ourselves and the world around us. Brower reminds us that we are all connected by the same thread of humanity. Her words offer solace and insight, regardless of where we are on our journey.” —N.


For the past few years I’ve set myself up with a list of words, one for each month of the coming year, to guide the various branches of my work with ease. I peek at next month’s word about two weeks into each month—always precisely what I need.

My past self determined that this October is about silence.

Walking with me like a best friend, silence has been showing up at every turn even before October officially began, infusing days with less chaos, more presence.

Receiving the hospitality of silence while sitting across from my teacher, pouring myself tea, walking with my partner. Especially in the company of folks with whom I’m deeply familiar, silence yields a more thorough quality of seeing them. Everyone’s hearts seem more visible, maybe I’m more porous. Maybe both.

Perhaps we’re just all exhausted, thus more willing to have our hearts burst open, I don’t know. Everything feels both alive and decaying, boundless and sad, all at once. I’ve been crying a lot, several folks I love are simply not well. The silences offer me a new vantage point on my bodhisattva vows, proceeding more thoughtfully, and when I find myself veering off, I can see and choose more clearly.

This week, a collaborative post with a dear colleague here who’s made an imprint on my practice.

writes here on Substack, one of the columns to which I turn daily when I need to reset my mind and stop.

Her meditation is just above, originally recorded for Thich Nhat Hanh’s Plum Tree Sangha in England.

My simple personal practice space; a corner of my bedroom.

Speaking of stopping, I’ve been recollecting earlier this year when I was called into daisan, or practice interview with Sensei Wendy Johnson, who knows me well enough to ask the right questions. Sitting about two feet apart in the small meeting room, incense wafts gently through. After the initial blanketing silence between us, she looks up, half-smiling as she does, and asks,

“What makes you stop?”

Simultaneously offensive and intriguing, I share with her that I typically work or clean until the end of the day. I realize how hard for me to shut it down, still. Her expression of recognition tells me she’s familiar with this paradigm. She cares, with so few words. Since then I’m practicing more respectable boundaries on my time, taking the morning more for myself.

But back to this meditation I’ve selected this week.

Reflective of her decades of experience simply sitting, writer and teacher

explores our shared habit of keeping past and future so close, inviting us to let whatever-it-is go, to return to the present.

In the inner sanctuary to which Andō invites us, we release the burden, using our simple attention to slowly check in and notice where we can soften again. In time we can learn that when we take off our shoes by the door, we put down everything we’ve been carrying.

A few words here from

, to welcome you to the inner sanctuary, perhaps as you listen to her meditation at the start of this piece.

Do you seek to know silence better, but have a fear of it? 

Today, I invite you to join me in a stopping meditation, for just over eight minutes, as I walk with you into your own inner sanctuary. Sit a little longer if you wish, there should be no hurry to return to the world, it will wait for you. 

A stopping meditation. When I first read that bit I nearly fell off my chair, deciding then and there a couple of October’s stacks will include guest teachers, this being the first. Following Andō’s daily offerings encourages me to keep practicing, to keep knowing there are others on the adventure in the inner sanctuary.

Here are Andō’s links: silentium | quiet sessions |  the silence | If you’d like to join her for a longer, unguided silent sitting, she hosts The Silence every Sunday from 18:45 to 19:30 UK time (145pm Eastern), welcoming a few folks to sit in the shared silence of being. All are welcome. Details, schedule and link at ando.life/thesilence.


Closing with an inquiry; i love to read and respond to your comments:

How are you and silence getting along?

Anything you’d love to ask or offer on your experience of deep quiet?

Leave a comment


Finally, celebrating my 54th birthday: Sharing a local cause close to my heart, with an invitation to join me in supporting the kids.

To celebrate my birthday, I’m raising funds for our local grief center for children and families, Gerard’s House. Those who’ve lost someone to death, incarceration or otherwise can come, sit in circle for a number of weeks, be heard, be seen. Gerard’s House is place of bearing witness. I’ve taken their thirty-hour training, and will be working there over the coming years. Any amount means a lot for this project, and I’ll match as many donations as possible as my birthday gift to myself. Thank you.

Donate here.


Welcome to Softening Time on Substack.
Thank you for being here.


All paid subscriptions for October will be donated to Gerard’s House. If you choose a paid subscription, you’ll have access to the entire Softening Time archives, and are invited to comment on all posts (I respond personally to each comment). If you have financial restriction, send a note to me—scholarship subscriptions are always available. Don’t hesitate to ask.

Our next Live Gathering for paid subscribers will happen on November 13th; details to follow.


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Holding Nothing with Elena Brower
Holding Nothing with Elena Brower
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