I remember the first time that I read Wendell Berry’s poem “How to be a Poet”. Now, I am not a poet, at all. However, I do love poetry and words that remind me what it means to be human. That is exactly what, I feel, this poem does.
It reminds me what it means to be human in this vast and wonderous world. It reminds me to step away from the unnatural noise of humanity, the artificial intelligence of digitalization and the (at times forced) social and economic demands of the culture I live in. Most importantly, it reminds me to be quiet and listen.
It’s in this hush where I can start to feel connected: connected to my whole being, to those around me and indeed to the earth that supports me. Better yet, it’s in this silence where I can witness new ideas, insights and creations arising. You see, for me when there is too much noise everything gets drowned out.
I think what this poem has done is it has given me permission to embrace silence. To use it as not only a tool to be mindful, but as a compass to navigate my way to living a life of presence, creativity and settled peace. This is the inspiration behind this blog. I want to create a place of silence to explore all that the experience of being alive and awake in this world has to offer.
May this silent place be of some use to you, as it is to me.
-Jane
How to Be a Poet (to remind myself)
Written by Wendell Berry
i
Make a place to sit down.
Sit down. Be quiet.
You must depend upon
affection, reading, knowledge,
skill—more of each
than you have—inspiration,
work, growing older, patience,
for patience joins time
to eternity. Any readers
who like your poems,
doubt their judgment.
ii
Breathe with unconditional breath
the unconditioned air.
Shun electric wire.
Communicate slowly. Live
a three-dimensioned life;
stay away from screens.
Stay away from anything
that obscures the place it is in.
There are no unsacred places;
there are only sacred places
and desecrated places.
iii
Accept what comes from silence.
Make the best you can of it.
Of the little words that come
out of the silence, like prayers
prayed back to the one who prays,
make a poem that does not disturb
the silence from which it came.
My Silent Place 
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