I grew up in a household with three people: my mom, my dad, and me. There weren't a bunch of siblings playing music and arguing. It was a relatively quiet home. But, when I think back, I remember that there was almost always a TV on or a radio playing. There were also a number of albums in rotation at any given time. There was almost always some kind of background noise. 

When I moved out and into my own place this habit continued. It’s what I knew. It was familiar and comforting. There were no cell phones or ipods in the late 80s and early 90s, but I always found a way to have some background noise. It kept me company.

How A Broken Stereo Changed My Life

In the early 90s I owned an art gallery with my boyfriend and another friend. We represented contemporary artists who made glass and paintings. To help pay the bills, I often worked with interior designers and corporate clients. Every week, twice a week for about two years I drove to Dayton Ohio, 45 minutes one way, to meet with a big client who had just opened new corporate offices. 

Around that time I had also recently started practicing yoga. On my drives, I listened to NPR, or the new REM album, or to some Wayne Dyer cassettes. Because of Wayne’s teachings, I learned about how our thoughts run our stories and how what you think about expands. I started thinking a lot about thinking!

One day my car stereo stopped working. It was going to be expensive to fix or replace, so  I decided I needed to save my pennies and be patient. The next time I drove to Dayton was pure hell. It was so quiet, with only fields and farms to look at. 

There were no distractions. That revealed just how loud my thoughts were. It was extremely uncomfortable. 

The first week was the worst. Then I started to acclimate. I began to understand what I had heard on the Wayne Dyer tapes. My thoughts were automatic. Same ones, day after day, rinse and repeat. I also realized that I could feel my emotions in my body. My curiosity grew.

And then things took a turn.

I recognized that I was unhappy in my current situation and had been for a long time. I couldn’t distract myself from what I was feeling. After months of this deep inner dive, I finally admitted to myself that I wanted something different. I wanted something more. 

Suffice it to say that my broken stereo, and the silence were catalysts for change. 

Becoming comfortable with the quiet outside myself led me to recognize the quiet that inherently lies within. I started to be able to hear myself. I heard my needs and desires, and I began to address some long-held pain. Not only did I get comfortable with my inner quiet but I actively began to seek it out. I practiced yoga more. I read more. The need to be entertained subsided. 

I learned the skill of deep inner listening because my car stereo broke in 1993. And that helped me change my path. And that changed my life.

(Please feel free to share or forward to anyone who may need to hear this message)

May we all grow in grace and peace,

and not neglect the silence that is printed

in the center of our being.

It will not fail us.

~ Thomas Merton