Silence.

by Deva Shantay

I’ve found a deep longing for—and appreciation of—silence. But true silence is rare. When you try to find it, you realize how elusive it is. There's always something—a faint electronic buzz, the hum of a refrigerator, a car in the distance, music. It’s almost impossible to find a moment completely free of sound. Since moving to Costa Rica, I’ve grown attuned to the sounds of nature, but the jungle is anything but quiet. In fact, it can be downright loud. Insects buzz, birds chirp and frogs croak relentlessly—day and night.

Recently, I spent a few days in Joshua Tree, California—and I found what I’d been missing: complete silence. The desert landscape is stark and sparse, and with that comes an unexpected gift—silence. With fewer animals and almost no human activity, the usual soundtrack of life just… disappeared. It felt like a true sound detox. I hadn’t realized how calming it is to be immersed in quiet.

Now, as I write this, I’ve retreated indoors—the desert temperature is above 90°F, and I’m grateful for air conditioning. But the sounds return: the hum of the fridge, the buzz of a fan, the low murmur of the electric systems. It's a reminder that silence is never permanent. But maybe that’s the real lesson. Silence isn’t about muting the outside world. Sometimes, it’s about turning inward—finding stillness in ourselves, even when the noise around us is unavoidable.

That said, the quiet was beautiful while it lasted, and I’ll be seeking it again soon.